I consume so much music but I fail to make an effort to break out of the bubble of bands and genres to make this a true, representative list. At the end of the day, I don’t care—I know what I like and I am passionate about this list of bands and what they put forward in 2018. Here is my top ten from this year. Continue reading
I know I am not the only one who felt surprised by the outcome of this week’s election. Whether you voted for Hillary Clinton or not, it is my hope that we all agree that we need to not fear those who are different.
I can’t lie. I love a lot of bands, but there are only a handful I would call my favorite: The Blake Babies, Juliana Hatfield Three, Veruca Salt, Throwing Muses and of course, Letters to Cleo. Up until now, I never thought I would have the opportunity to see these bands live, much less interact with them (I have friends comment that I like a lot of female fronted bands… so? Maybe they are just better).
Real Housewives of New Jersey
I have to say, this was the snoozer of most #RHONJ finales. Nothing really happened! The Envy Fashion show was boring. I did tear up when Melissa talked about feeling a tug on her pillow (the evening of her father’s death anniversary).
I think the best part was Dolores and Teresa icing Kathy out! I mean, I almost felt bad for her. Her days as a Friend of a Housewife are done. Continue reading
Image from a JohnnyBarrtoons Work in Progress, “QueerBoy”
When I was in Junior High and High School, there was not a place I dreaded more than the locker room. I did not hate the locker room because I had to take my clothes off in front of other people, or because other naked men were all around me. I did not hate it because I was afraid of exposing others to who I was. I did not hate it because we had no real adult supervision.
I hated the locker room for the “locker room talk.”
First, I offer an aside. I am not here to give exposure or feed the ego of the “candidate that should not be named.” I will not link to that individual to give him the exposure (though I might Tweet him about it later).
“Locker Room Talk” is not an excuse. “Locker Room Talk” is not acceptable or even dismissible behavior. “Locker Room Talk” contributes to a culture of bullying and it is never acceptable.
I have had my experiences with “Locker Room Talk” and they taught me about the world. “Locker Room Talk” taught me about homophobia. “Locker Room Talk” taught me how to fear the truth about who I would be. “Locker Room Talk” made me hate and fear who I am.
All “Locker Room Talk” allows is for weak people to assert power over people. Power does not come from “talk.” Power comes from action and truth. We should applaud those who act for the betterment of all people and not reward those who just talk.
When I started this blog, it was inevitable that I would write about Real Housewives. I watch all of them religiously. I tweet like someone possessed! I then get riled up by adrenaline and wine. I calm down by calling watch what happens hoping my carefully written questions will be selected by producers even thought I slur the words with my affected, southern, gay-inflected voice. It’s cringe-worthy.
So, do I write posts about each episode? I can’t drink, tweet, and formulate a written response? I don’t have it in me. But it’s been a few days and I can still deliver an opinionated recap faster than an Atlanta Housewife (even thirsty Kenya). So, let’s do this!
So, if you know me… this is not all that shocking. I love music. Always have. I used to be fairly mainstream. I had every Madonna record within seconds of their release – at least as soon as I could get out of school.
Growing up in Bridgewater, Virginia limited my musical landscape–at least that’s what I thought. Thank GOD for insomnia and “120 Minutes” on MTV. One night, when I could not sleep, I saw a girl spinning around while professing that “everybody loves me, everyone but you.” Color me hooked! I had a habit of videotaping MTV so I rewound the tape and found the name “Juliana Hatfield.” I wrote the name down (pre-internet), went to the mall record store, and the rest was history. Continue reading