This is genius.
HOW DID I NOT THINK OF THIS BEFORE?!?!?! All I would have done is set up a video camera in my living room on a Saturday night!
Curses! Foiled again!
Sunday, January 30, 2011
The Gay/Straight Antagonism
Sometimes it's really hard to be friends with gay men. Not because they're gay. But because sometimes they're so gay.
It may be a little bit my fault. I did support the behavior. I went to the gay bars and danced my ass off to the ridiculously catchy music. I accompanied and approved of purchases of clothing that would not be out of place on Fire Island or on one of Cher's backup dancers. I applied the glitter on Halloween to make one of my friends a gay vampire.
But sometimes I'm just overwhelmed by the gayness of it all. Every bar we go to is a gay bar. Every movie we watch is a gay movie (including a gem discovered over New Years, The Big Gay Musical). Every boy we talk about is a gay boy.
Just this past weekend, a friend and I were indulging in a Pushing Daisies marathon. I mentioned that Lee Pace is from Houston. His response was, "So is Matt Bomer.....and he's gay!" (Which Matt Bomer hasn't confirmed or stated outright. All I can confirm is that he's beautiful.)
One night a few weeks ago, a girlfriend and I were talking about a male mutual friend of ours. One of my gay guy friends sauntered over.
"What are you guys talking about?"
"A guy we know."
"Oooh! Is he gay?"
"No."
"Oh. Then I don't care." And he sauntered away.
ARRRRRRRRRRRGH.
It's difficult for me. I recognize that there are only a select group of people around whom my gay friends can truly express themselves and talk about the things they're interested in (read: penises), but there is only so much gay talk that a straight woman can take.
The final straw/initial realization came to me on a night when I was with a group of straight friends. I had made tentative plans to meet up with a different group of friends (gays) to head to a gay bar later, but I was enjoying myself at the (straight) bar and wasn't quite ready to leave.
Because I had found a straight boy of my choosing and was flirting to my heart's content.
It's not my fault, really. He was 6'7". That is SIX FEET AND SEVEN INCHES TALL. Come on. It was my civic duty to flirt with him.
When my other friends texted me, I told them that I wasn't ready to go yet. Big mistake.
My phone practically exploded from the amount of texts I got while it was on the vibrate setting. They were ready to go now. They wanted to dance now. There were gay boys waiting for them at the bar now.
I told them to come to the bar. It was met with a sneer (or the textual equivalent of a sneer). I told them that I had my claws hooked into a straight and I wasn't quite done playing with him yet. This was met with, "WHATEVER JUST GIVE HIM YOUR NUMBER AND LET'S GO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
I know that being gay is tough. Especially in south Texas. But guys, don't forget that, though we queer dears may have a time and a half at the gay bars, they do absolutely nothing for our social lives. We need to go to a straight bar every once in a while. Throw us a bone every once in a while. Just make sure it's not a gay bone.
It may be a little bit my fault. I did support the behavior. I went to the gay bars and danced my ass off to the ridiculously catchy music. I accompanied and approved of purchases of clothing that would not be out of place on Fire Island or on one of Cher's backup dancers. I applied the glitter on Halloween to make one of my friends a gay vampire.
But sometimes I'm just overwhelmed by the gayness of it all. Every bar we go to is a gay bar. Every movie we watch is a gay movie (including a gem discovered over New Years, The Big Gay Musical). Every boy we talk about is a gay boy.
Just this past weekend, a friend and I were indulging in a Pushing Daisies marathon. I mentioned that Lee Pace is from Houston. His response was, "So is Matt Bomer.....and he's gay!" (Which Matt Bomer hasn't confirmed or stated outright. All I can confirm is that he's beautiful.)
One night a few weeks ago, a girlfriend and I were talking about a male mutual friend of ours. One of my gay guy friends sauntered over.
"What are you guys talking about?"
"A guy we know."
"Oooh! Is he gay?"
"No."
"Oh. Then I don't care." And he sauntered away.
ARRRRRRRRRRRGH.
It's difficult for me. I recognize that there are only a select group of people around whom my gay friends can truly express themselves and talk about the things they're interested in (read: penises), but there is only so much gay talk that a straight woman can take.
The final straw/initial realization came to me on a night when I was with a group of straight friends. I had made tentative plans to meet up with a different group of friends (gays) to head to a gay bar later, but I was enjoying myself at the (straight) bar and wasn't quite ready to leave.
Because I had found a straight boy of my choosing and was flirting to my heart's content.
It's not my fault, really. He was 6'7". That is SIX FEET AND SEVEN INCHES TALL. Come on. It was my civic duty to flirt with him.
When my other friends texted me, I told them that I wasn't ready to go yet. Big mistake.
My phone practically exploded from the amount of texts I got while it was on the vibrate setting. They were ready to go now. They wanted to dance now. There were gay boys waiting for them at the bar now.
I told them to come to the bar. It was met with a sneer (or the textual equivalent of a sneer). I told them that I had my claws hooked into a straight and I wasn't quite done playing with him yet. This was met with, "WHATEVER JUST GIVE HIM YOUR NUMBER AND LET'S GO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
I know that being gay is tough. Especially in south Texas. But guys, don't forget that, though we queer dears may have a time and a half at the gay bars, they do absolutely nothing for our social lives. We need to go to a straight bar every once in a while. Throw us a bone every once in a while. Just make sure it's not a gay bone.
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Oh helllllll no.
I may have mentioned this before, but I teach at a public high school. My students are teenagers. They are also mostly assholes.
Yesterday I had a moment that I referred to as "going fabulous," but that my students referred to as "going ghetto."
It was the last period of the day. I was tired and stressed out. And maaaybe a little cranky. Nobody knows the trouble I've seen when it comes to these kids, I'm telling you. So one of my lovelies, in the last period of the day, decided that he had "done enough work for the day," meaning that he wanted to sit and talk to another student and sleep and just generally get on my nerves.
Oh helllllll no.
I pointed my finger at him, I gave a snap or two, I wagged my head in a particularly sassy manner, and I told him that if he did not get to work right that second then I was going to come over that desk and rip his eyelids off and shove them in his mouth.
"Because then your EYES WILL BE OPEN and your MOUTH WILL BE CLOSED and if you say ONE MORE WORD SO HELP ME.......THREAT!? YOU THINK THAT SOUNDS LIKE A THREAT!? Give me the stinkeye one more time and I'LL SHOW YOU A THREAT!"
Once he (wisely) went back to work, I smoothed my hair back down and excused myself for going fabulous on his ass.
Needless to say, the class was silent until the end of the day.
Yesterday I had a moment that I referred to as "going fabulous," but that my students referred to as "going ghetto."
It was the last period of the day. I was tired and stressed out. And maaaybe a little cranky. Nobody knows the trouble I've seen when it comes to these kids, I'm telling you. So one of my lovelies, in the last period of the day, decided that he had "done enough work for the day," meaning that he wanted to sit and talk to another student and sleep and just generally get on my nerves.
Oh helllllll no.
I pointed my finger at him, I gave a snap or two, I wagged my head in a particularly sassy manner, and I told him that if he did not get to work right that second then I was going to come over that desk and rip his eyelids off and shove them in his mouth.
"Because then your EYES WILL BE OPEN and your MOUTH WILL BE CLOSED and if you say ONE MORE WORD SO HELP ME.......THREAT!? YOU THINK THAT SOUNDS LIKE A THREAT!? Give me the stinkeye one more time and I'LL SHOW YOU A THREAT!"
Once he (wisely) went back to work, I smoothed my hair back down and excused myself for going fabulous on his ass.
Needless to say, the class was silent until the end of the day.
Saturday, January 22, 2011
Texty text.
Now. Don't get me wrong. I love a good text message conversation. For the times when verbal conversation exerts too much energy. And trust me, I've been there.
But there are some conversations that should be reserved for actual human speech. Announcing a pregnancy scare, for example. Or if you have to tell someone that their dog has died. Or if there's some sort of medical emergency of some kind.
There's also another type of conversation that should extend past the text message forum. The "I can't tell in what tone that was meant" conversation.
It's difficult to interpret tone through a text message. The simple word "whatever" can be nonchalant, passive aggressive, dismissive, or annoyed. Someone can be offended by something that was meant to be innocent.
A Friend of mine is a habitual texter. He's had many a relationship ended via text message. One of his recent dalliances was made complicated by his boyfriend feeling that things were becoming distant. What was his evidence of the distance? "He seemed distant in his text messages."
WHAT.
Just the other day, a Guy he's been talking to was spotted at dinner by a friend, and texted my Friend. Friend texted Guy and asked him what he was doing. When he answered that he was at dinner, Friend asked who he was with. The conversation snowballed to accusations of lying and stalking and CRAZY.
This situation may not have been able to be saved by an actual phone call, but I guarantee you that text messages that are confusing and borderline offensive can be saved by talking.
Too many gays that I know depend solely on text messages for their communication needs, which, when given their snarky nature, will probably eventually cause problems. All of which can be solved by talking instead of texting.
But there are some conversations that should be reserved for actual human speech. Announcing a pregnancy scare, for example. Or if you have to tell someone that their dog has died. Or if there's some sort of medical emergency of some kind.
There's also another type of conversation that should extend past the text message forum. The "I can't tell in what tone that was meant" conversation.
It's difficult to interpret tone through a text message. The simple word "whatever" can be nonchalant, passive aggressive, dismissive, or annoyed. Someone can be offended by something that was meant to be innocent.
A Friend of mine is a habitual texter. He's had many a relationship ended via text message. One of his recent dalliances was made complicated by his boyfriend feeling that things were becoming distant. What was his evidence of the distance? "He seemed distant in his text messages."
WHAT.
Just the other day, a Guy he's been talking to was spotted at dinner by a friend, and texted my Friend. Friend texted Guy and asked him what he was doing. When he answered that he was at dinner, Friend asked who he was with. The conversation snowballed to accusations of lying and stalking and CRAZY.
This situation may not have been able to be saved by an actual phone call, but I guarantee you that text messages that are confusing and borderline offensive can be saved by talking.
Too many gays that I know depend solely on text messages for their communication needs, which, when given their snarky nature, will probably eventually cause problems. All of which can be solved by talking instead of texting.
Monday, January 17, 2011
Glee for "Glee"!
The Golden Globes were this past Sunday and "Glee" had a few big wins, including acting wins for Jane Lynch and Chris Colfer.
"Glee" is a show that celebrates diversity, even if it sometimes leans towards the stereotypical (don't get me started on the episode that had Mercedes obsessed with tater tots), and it celebrates people getting to be who they are and being accepted for it. Chris Colfer's acceptance speech, much less the moment when his name is announced as the winner, melted my heart.
ADORABLE.
Jane Lynch's speech was perfect.
And the creator, Ryan Murphy, and the writers, along with the cast, accept the award for Best Comedy Series. (Ignore Lea Michele's hideous dress.)
Love it, "Glee". Love the show, love the cast, love the writers. Love it.
"Glee" is a show that celebrates diversity, even if it sometimes leans towards the stereotypical (don't get me started on the episode that had Mercedes obsessed with tater tots), and it celebrates people getting to be who they are and being accepted for it. Chris Colfer's acceptance speech, much less the moment when his name is announced as the winner, melted my heart.
ADORABLE.
Jane Lynch's speech was perfect.
And the creator, Ryan Murphy, and the writers, along with the cast, accept the award for Best Comedy Series. (Ignore Lea Michele's hideous dress.)
Love it, "Glee". Love the show, love the cast, love the writers. Love it.
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Ice Queen.
Johnny Weir came out in his new memoir. No one is surprised.
I mean, seriously, Johnny. If this is the first picture that comes up on a Google image search of your name, you're not really fooling anyone. Especially when you have a show on Logo. Come on.
But I love Johnny Weir. I've loved him since the 2006 Olympics when he was in that sparkly swan outfit. I will never be able to resist a good sparkle. Johnny is a snarky bitch who can back it up with an amazing talent, and for that I love him.
More proof of Johnny's marvelous talent and fabulosity:
I mean, seriously, Johnny. If this is the first picture that comes up on a Google image search of your name, you're not really fooling anyone. Especially when you have a show on Logo. Come on.
But I love Johnny Weir. I've loved him since the 2006 Olympics when he was in that sparkly swan outfit. I will never be able to resist a good sparkle. Johnny is a snarky bitch who can back it up with an amazing talent, and for that I love him.
More proof of Johnny's marvelous talent and fabulosity:
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Consumption junction.
I'm dying. I'm convinced. I am on my deathbed. My throat is swollen and it is making it impossible for me to breathe and when I do breathe I cough and then I sneeze and ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.
So yeah, I have a cold. I am not at my most fabulous. This is coming after a wonderful weekend of friends and fun and pirates at the Houston Museum of Natural Science. The pirates had too little eyeliner for my taste, but they had some rockin' pieces of eight. And I touched the shit out of them.
Now that I think of it, the touching at the museum is probably what led me to be in this state. I never should have gone to the children's section of the museum! Children are like walking petri dishes of plague! Curse the enticing dinosaur fossils!
But my feverish mind is causing me to digress.
The point of my story came after the fun and exciting weekend. Three of my friends stayed over for dinner and drinks and hot tub in the abnormally frigid weather, so the next morning, one of my friends went with me to fetch breakfast tacos at a taco shack across town. On our way, we stopped at a CVS to pick up some sodas. We were the only ones in the store, and the sweet little old lady at the register was super chatty.
As she bagged the bottles, I handed them to my friend to carry.
"Oh, I just love that," she said. "Every time couples come in, the guy is always the one who carries the bags!"
"They're not good for much else, am I right?" I replied with a knowing wink, as my friend rolled his eyes.
Ah, the wonderful versatile gay. He can be mentally paired up with anyone, gay or straight. I've passed him off as my boyfriend countless times. And when he goes out with a male friend, people assume that they're a couple. He can pass in any social setting.
But right now, all I care about is someone passing me the Nyquil.
So yeah, I have a cold. I am not at my most fabulous. This is coming after a wonderful weekend of friends and fun and pirates at the Houston Museum of Natural Science. The pirates had too little eyeliner for my taste, but they had some rockin' pieces of eight. And I touched the shit out of them.
Now that I think of it, the touching at the museum is probably what led me to be in this state. I never should have gone to the children's section of the museum! Children are like walking petri dishes of plague! Curse the enticing dinosaur fossils!
But my feverish mind is causing me to digress.
The point of my story came after the fun and exciting weekend. Three of my friends stayed over for dinner and drinks and hot tub in the abnormally frigid weather, so the next morning, one of my friends went with me to fetch breakfast tacos at a taco shack across town. On our way, we stopped at a CVS to pick up some sodas. We were the only ones in the store, and the sweet little old lady at the register was super chatty.
As she bagged the bottles, I handed them to my friend to carry.
"Oh, I just love that," she said. "Every time couples come in, the guy is always the one who carries the bags!"
"They're not good for much else, am I right?" I replied with a knowing wink, as my friend rolled his eyes.
Ah, the wonderful versatile gay. He can be mentally paired up with anyone, gay or straight. I've passed him off as my boyfriend countless times. And when he goes out with a male friend, people assume that they're a couple. He can pass in any social setting.
But right now, all I care about is someone passing me the Nyquil.
Sunday, January 2, 2011
2011.
Happy New Year!
I had both a busy and a relaxing holiday. I've had two weeks off and managed to see a lot of friends and get a semi-permanent couch upholstery pattern on my skin from some much needed lazy time. I love when I catch a Lifetime movie marathon.
As usual, I have my list of resolutions that I have already been hard at work on breaking. Of course, I obviously want to lose 20 pounds. I need to get healthier in general (and hopefully realize that french fries are not a vital part of the food pyramid) so that my mother will stop nagging me. I am also working on not using profanity as much. Unless the situation really calls for it. Which, let's be honest, it usually does.
I also resolve to be fabulous. Of course, that shouldn't be too hard.
I'm excited for this new year. 2010 was pretty good to me. I had a lot of good times with friends and family, I made new friends, I lost some extraneous body parts, I turned 25. But 2011 is turning out to be just as wonderful -- it was rung in with great friends and lots of booze and dancing. Just the way I like it.
I had both a busy and a relaxing holiday. I've had two weeks off and managed to see a lot of friends and get a semi-permanent couch upholstery pattern on my skin from some much needed lazy time. I love when I catch a Lifetime movie marathon.
As usual, I have my list of resolutions that I have already been hard at work on breaking. Of course, I obviously want to lose 20 pounds. I need to get healthier in general (and hopefully realize that french fries are not a vital part of the food pyramid) so that my mother will stop nagging me. I am also working on not using profanity as much. Unless the situation really calls for it. Which, let's be honest, it usually does.
I also resolve to be fabulous. Of course, that shouldn't be too hard.
I'm excited for this new year. 2010 was pretty good to me. I had a lot of good times with friends and family, I made new friends, I lost some extraneous body parts, I turned 25. But 2011 is turning out to be just as wonderful -- it was rung in with great friends and lots of booze and dancing. Just the way I like it.
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