Wednesday, April 25, 2007

sista, sista.

melishka82: omg. i found our new celeb sister pair.
Tamcat 09: whoooo
melishka82: vanessa and angela simmons
melishka82: totes.
Tamcat 09: dont say totes
melishka82: whatevs. you are angela. and i am vanessa.
melishka82: i mean you're bitchier than angela
melishka82: and i'm fatter than vanessa
melishka82: but other than that, they are sooo our new celebrity sister pair
melishka82: yessss they were just screaming at each other
Tamcat 09: is it on now??
melishka82: yes
Tamcat 09: umm and breaktime from studying.
Tamcat 09: how come i have to be the fatter one
melishka82: it's not because she's fat
melishka82: it's b/c she's bratty to her sister
Tamcat 09: yayyy my food just came
melishka82: it's late to eat
Tamcat 09 : umm im hungry?
melishka82: i ran a 2 hour group and than a 40min individual session with a group member who came in suicidal and was so freaked out and had my period so i went to bassetts ice cream and ate two servings.
Tamcat 09: tell me to put down the bread. i cantttt
Tamcat 09: holy shit i cant move
Tamcat 09: i like to dip the bread into the cheese and dressing afterwards
melishka82: um
Tamcat 09: um or yum??
Tamcat 09: i went to dunkin twice today ... not normal huh
melishka82: do you like vomit your food? b/c you're like 20lbs lighter than me
Tamcat 09: omg im nauseous
Tamcat 09: and it's not my fault i have a fast metabolism. and am pretty.

Monday, April 23, 2007


There must be some sort of secret celebrity douche club I don't know about, because Kevin Federline and Paris Hilton were spotted partying together at Tao last Friday. Paris was with her boyfriend Josh Henderson though, so hopefully she and K-Fed weren't doing anything too horrifying. Can you imagine if these two actually did get together? Their kids would come out with flippers instead of arms.

Sunday Secrets.

Wednesday, April 18, 2007

Our Prejudices, Ourselves.

Published: April 13, 2007

AMERICA is watching Don Imus’s self-immolation in a state of shock and awe. And I’m watching America with wry amusement.

Since I’m a second-class citizen — a gay man — my seats for the ballgame of American discourse are way back in the bleachers. I don’t have to wait long for a shock jock or stand-up comedian to slip up with hateful epithets aimed at me and mine. Hate speak against homosexuals is as commonplace as spam. It’s daily traffic for those who profess themselves to be regular Joes, men of God, public servants who live off my tax dollars, as well as any number of celebrities.

In fact, I get a good chuckle whenever someone refers to “the media” as an agent of “the gay agenda.” There are entire channels, like Spike TV, that couldn’t fill an hour of programming if required to remove their sexist and homophobic content. We’ve got a president and a large part of Congress willing to change the Constitution so they can deprive of us our rights because they feel we are not “normal.”

So I’m used to catching foul balls up here in the cheap seats. What I am really enjoying is watching the rest of you act as if you had no idea that prejudice was alive and well in your hearts and minds.

For the past two decades political correctness has been derided as a surrender to thin-skinned, humorless, uptight oversensitive sissies. Well, you anti-politically correct people have won the battle, and we’re all now feasting on the spoils of your victory. During the last few months alone we’ve had a few comedians spout racism, a basketball coach put forth anti-Semitism and several high-profile spoutings of anti-gay epithets.

What surprises me, I guess, is how choosy the anti-P.C. crowd is about which hate speech it will not tolerate. Sure, there were voices of protest when the TV actor Isaiah Washington called a gay colleague a “faggot.” But corporate America didn’t pull its advertising from “Grey’s Anatomy,” as it did with Mr. Imus, did it? And when Ann Coulter likewise tagged a presidential candidate last month, she paid no real price.

In fact, when Bill Maher discussed Ms. Coulter’s remarks on his HBO show, he repeated the slur no fewer than four times himself; each mention, I must note, solicited a laugh from his audience. No one called for any sort of apology from him. (Well, actually, I did, so the following week he only used it once.)

Face it, if a Pentagon general, his salary paid with my tax dollars, can label homosexual acts as “immoral” without a call for his dismissal, who are the moral high and mighty kidding?

Our nation, historically bursting with generosity toward strangers, remains remarkably unkind toward its own. Just under our gleaming patina of inclusiveness, we harbor corroding guts. America, I tell you that it doesn’t matter how many times you brush your teeth. If your insides are rotting your breath will stink. So, how do you people choose which hate to embrace, which to forgive with a wink and a week in rehab, and which to protest? Where’s my copy of that rule book?

Let me cite a non-volatile example of how prejudice can cohabit unchecked with good intentions. I am a huge fan of David Letterman’s. I watch the opening of his show a couple of times a week and have done so for decades. Without fail, in his opening monologue or skit Mr. Letterman makes a joke about someone being fat. I kid you not. Will that destroy our nation? Should he be fired or lose his sponsors? Obviously not.

But I think that there is something deeper going on at the Letterman studio than coincidence. And, as I’ve said, I cite this example simply to illustrate that all kinds of prejudice exist in the human heart. Some are harmless. Some not so harmless. But we need to understand who we are if we wish to change. (In the interest of full disclosure, I should confess to not only being a gay American, but also a fat one. Yes, I’m a double winner.)

I urge you to look around, or better yet, listen around and become aware of the prejudice in everyday life. We are so surrounded by expressions of intolerance that I am in shock and awe that anyone noticed all these recent high-profile instances. Still, I’m gladdened because our no longer being deaf to them may signal their eventual eradication.

The real point is that you cannot harbor malice toward others and then cry foul when someone displays intolerance against you. Prejudice tolerated is intolerance encouraged. Rise up in righteousness when you witness the words and deeds of hate, but only if you are willing to rise up against them all, including your own. Otherwise suffer the slings and arrows of disrespect silently.

Monday, April 16, 2007

going green.

this is some fucking shit. for the record, it is April 16th, 2007 and there is a serious snow and wind effect going on right now. snow. in april. the middle of april. with police sirens about every 15 minutes. ok, maybe that piece i'm reading into a little too much. that's just good old Philadelphia! i invite anyone who doesn't believe in global warming to take a look at the blizzard outside my window. because i'm kind of scared the way a 7 year old freaks when they see lightening and hear thunder. i think instead of being a closet tree-hugger, i'm just going to go the blatant crunchy granola route. be proud to be green. i'm off to make a snowman on my way to work. and/or be killed by a bus when 50 knot gale force winds throw me in front of a bus. nor'easter 2007...woooooooo!!

Sunday, April 15, 2007

Gin gimlets and my infinitesimal complex.

So my friend Lois is in Phila for only another month before she re-joins her 'vapid, but loving it' city of Los Angeles for good. So before I pull out my "Where's Lois" t-shirt that I will wear with pride, we figured we need to make the most of this time left. 11:30pm and we head to Snack Bar, which is the greatest thing to hit Center City in a while, to situate ourselves in posh mode, drinking ten dollar drinks, talking about handbags we don't even want to afford. But this is me and Lo, and we of course, move onto other topics of conversation. Mainly boys.

The bartender is totes cute. Friendly, dark hair, funny, diesel jeans and straight. which, if you know anything about Philadelphia or read my blog, this is a rather hard thing to find. So we're chatting it up, laughing, having a good time. He tells me he makes a damn good gimlet. I tell him to hook me up, but to make mine with gin. which evidently is hardcore and i get some recognition for that which makes me slightly impressed with myself. Next thing you know, this tiny, 4 foot 11 girl comes out of nowhere and is being all snuggly sweet with the bartender, in only the way that tiny, 4 foot 11 girls can be. Lo and I simultaneously take large gulps of our gimlets and let the fun begin. This chick has short hair, which all the more contributes to her 'I'm a 12 year old boy' look. But she can still wear a size 0, and so for that she has me beat. and she can snuggle up to this guy in that perfect, 'i-fit-right-under-your-arm-beneath-your-head' way that i never seem to be able to comfortably do. But I mean, Lo and I, we're fun girls. Like Xtina says, "can't hold us back". (Then again, Xtina is a little girl.) So I mean, we do it up. We talk, we laugh, we flirt, we effectively piss this girl off.
Listen, I'm 5 foot 7. with large childbearing hips for children i don't want. i have an ass. my Seven jeans are a size 30. in a thin month. i can't wear the tiny little tanks that are oh-so-cute in the summer. when i wear heels, i don't look like i'm playing dress up in my mom's closet. i will never be a tiny girl. i'm going to be 25 and i'm still trying to reconcile that notion. God knows, my friend Liesl and I never figured it out in high school or college. And clearly, three years after that, and I'm still here.
what happened to sweating the hot amazonian look? when did that go away????
models in america are hot. curves are not. No, men in america prefer little boys. or asian girls. i'm fucked.
asian girls and little girls who look like 12 year old boys. this is my competition.
So, finally, crunk off one huge gimlet, we say we're leaving, the bartender tells us we shouldn't go. The infinitesimal girl rolls her eyes, and scene. Whatever. Our work is done. And in all our 5 foot 7, badonkadonk glory, we squeeze between the bar and the door, while the 12 year old stands on her tiptoes to kiss her bartender.

On that note, I'm off to do a one mile "fun run" in torrential downpour at the Mann Center in order to help eliminate the epidemic of youth violence in Philadelphia. And the fact that Physicians for Social Responsibility has organized it has nothing to do with it. Really.

Tuesday, April 3, 2007

Sunday, April 1, 2007