Musings on Life for the Queerly Inclined

Posts tagged ‘Chicago’

Letters to Public Interactions/Institutions

Dear CTA conductor,

You, the one who looked directly at me as I boarded the train, and told me to smile: I will smile when I damn well please and not on command.

Fuck you,

Tamar

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Dear Lincoln Park drug stores,

Stay classy.  Chicago never ceases to come up with brilliant ideas, including this:

Yep, that’s right–the local CVS has a booze section.  Make that an extensive booze section.  New England and its liquor stores can suck it.

Mostly wine and spirits.  The bottles of hard liquor had locks/alarms on them because, ya know, CVS goods usually aren’t worth more than $10.  Classy.

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Dear guys in the truck,

How exactly did you imagine this scene would go down?  I’m honestly curious.

On Friday evening, I was driving to meet a friend.  Having jumped Spider-woman-style directly from the shower out of the window and into the car (as ya do), I realized this would be a putting-mascara-on-in-the-car trip.  (For the record: yes, this is unsafe behavior and I indulge highly infrequently.)  Un/fortunately, there are a couple of intersections within two blocks of my house at which the lights take forever to change.  One of them will actually stay red for up to three and a half minutes (apparently the average wait time at a red is one minute…nobody informed my neighborhood).

While waiting at a long stop light and applying makeup, I heard a light but persistent car horn.  “What is that?” I wondered, “The light is clearly still red.”  The horn kept going.  Turned out it was coming from the enormous truck next to me.  I looked over to find two men–clearly just off work–leaning (head, shoulders, and arms) outta the front passenger window of their company truck, waving madly at me and grinning.  Ummmm…really?

You think ima respond well to that?  I already had a mascara wand next to my eye and was watching both the traffic light and my own rear-view mirror.  You think that was a good time to demand my attention?  Please.

The start of another classy night in Chi-town.

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Dear Sprinkles,

Thank you for your genius.  Talk to y’all later–I’m moving to DC stat.

Love T

P.S. Alternately, maybe I’ll just bake rainbow cupcakes with le brother, because that doesn’t involve leaving my kitchen.

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My Life Is Rough

WordPress tells me that I have readers in the USA, the UK, Pakistan, Germany, the Philippines, and Puerto Rico.  Welcome, everyone!  Now to business.  I would like to draw upon your collective creativity and knowledge to help me solve a most urgent problem.  *drum roll*  How can I watch The L Word without being subjected to the outrageous shenanigans of Jenny Schecter?  She starts off okay, but by halfway through the series, she needs to go.  By the final season, she’s unbearable.  As Diane Schipley wrote in The Guardian in 2009, “the death of whiny egomaniac Jenny was probably long overdue.”  (That does not need a spoiler warning–season six premiered three and a half years ago.)  Suggestions?

My solution?  Bypass The L Word all together and instead watch Noah’s Arc.  So many gay men.  So much awkward flirting.  Let’s see how long I can stick with that.  It’s dramatic and entertaining, but the patronizing macho power plays really put me off.

On to the good things in my life:

1. I actually made breakfast.  Real “I’m home now and have access to a fully stocked kitchen and super fabulous professional stove” breakfast.  The house was filled with the sugary scents of cinnamon rosemary artisan French toast, stewed bananas on the side, all sprinkled with crushed pecans and drizzled with maple syrup.  Last night I had pennette with homemade pesto (my mom grows basil).  There’s also been an exponential increase in the amount of homemade guac and chips since I returned home.  I’ve missed cooking…

2. My mom (of her own accord) bought the new Allison Bechdel book: Are You My Mother?  I promptly stole borrowed it.

3. This.  All of this.  Who’s in Chicago?  Hit me up.  We’re gonna find out who these people are (already got one of them), where they are, and when we can party it up with them.  Let’s go drink champagne and get you laid.

Chicago Wins…Again

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