Idols
La Palabra L
My Myspace page becomes a giant collage depicting my undeniable love for Dana and Tegan and Sara. I’m not hiding anything. In fact, I think I’m making it pretty impossible for anyone who knows me to say, “that girl MUST be straight.”
So Unusual
Even in the world of don’t-offend parenting, I got as far as I did because I tell the fucking truth. I might have the only parenting book to regularly drop the f-bomb. My entire brand is built on being not-blend-in-able.
Dear Lestat
Why did you make David a vampire, even though he told you no? Why did you keep hurting that woman, when she told you no, too? You always said that you only wanted people who were willing. You scared me. I’m going to try not to think about it.
Are You Charles Bukowski, The Writer?
"So you are a writer and a poet!" he says angrily, and stands up like he’s gonna punch me.
Porsche: The Speed Of Belief
I was shell-shocked enough from seeing Magnus’s collection of P-cars online, and now I am standing in his incredible goth-rock palace with a bunch of Porsche execs.
Marching With Atticus Finch
“You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view... until you climb into his skin and walk around in it.”
Moshing In His Memory
It has been a ruthless summer and we have plenty of pent up aggression towards the cosmos, but there is no anger in the air. We’re engaging in one of punk’s most sacred rituals out of pure love for our fallen comrade.
The Shadow Of Me
My home was now a crime scene, everything I owned was evidence. I watched the light go out on the bright, outgoing, creative 22 year old and a ghostlike shadow take her place.
Everybody, Everybody Knows
“Everybody Knows This Is Nowhere” meant something specific for Young, in a strange city where the weather never changes, dreaming of a bit of a breeze that never seemed to come.
Unsinkable Me
It’s Molly’s ‘go to hell’ attitude flowing through me when I tell off Rachel’s grandfather for misgendering her in public and refusing to accept her — for putting conditions on his love.
Tea. Earl Grey. Hot.
Picard’s drink of choice is the humble tea. Here was the first tangible connection between me and the man I wanted to be.
Uncle John & The Singapore Sling
For two full seconds all I can think about is stripping down to my white briefs and running out onto the dance floor.
Dumbledore, Me, & Sweet Grandaddy Lee
They let him die. They left a man without his father, a wife without her husband, and Amy and me without our Grandaddy Lee. It’s their fault he’s gone.
My Life Is Delirious
When I turn 17, I do my first open mic at a coffee shop near my hometown in Connecticut. White people, dim lighting, and overpriced coffee. Terrifying.
X-Men: Age Of Atheism
Without even intending it, I start to walk away from my religion. It is not a pleasant journey. I feel alone. I can’t tell anyone because everyone I know believes in God. I am an outcast. I am an X-Man.
The Man Called Charles Bukowski
“He walked over and poured a scotch and water. He walked into the bedroom with it, took off his shirt, pants, shoes, stockings. In his shorts he went to bed with the drink. It was 15 minutes to noon. No ambition, no talent, no chance.”
Letting Go Of Adrian Monk
I know there are depressed people who are tired all the time and ones who cut themselves and ones who may or may not think about ending it. But in pop culture, there is only one kind of OCD, and Adrian Monk is just the latest version.
The Crown On 53
He pleads with God for answers — something to ease Charlotte’s suffering. His fingers drum nervously on the wheel as he pulls up to the church. He sits for a minute. Finally, he kills the engine.
Master Of Some
See, this way, I can prove I’m smart — an urgent need as I continue to fail spectacularly in French or algebra. I can prove it, in particular, to my Dad. Beat him at his own game, make him proud — it’s flawless logic, no?
My Pop Education
I can learn by listening. Listening and Listening and more Listening until eventually my parents insist that I take my headphones off and “be present” or get grounded.
Strong As Sansa
I’m not Arya. I’m Sansa. Many GRRM readers hate her; she’s stupid and naive. She is used as a pawn by everyone. But I understand and love Sansa deeply, because her story is my own.
No Match For Her
She takes hold of her ebony Queen. I can’t help but admire the piece, its intricate details standing out against the contrasting background of her pale skin. “I can’t believe you gave up your advantage,” she says. She knew what I was going to do before I did it. It’s like she can see my future. But I can’t see hers.
Someone Like Adele
I can feel my face falling as though I’ve just had a stroke. But as he kneels behind me and starts giving me a rim job, my anger subsides.