You know I love you.

Its just that kind of day.

xx

Waiting for the News

WARNING: The following is a drawn out, over indulgent rant. Although it may be harsh at times, it is in no way representative of the love I have for the chronically tardy in my life. 

I’m having a femmesistential crisis.

Let me preface this by saying: “I feel cranky and pubescent today and I don’t know why. Grrrrrr. I’m going to take it out on people I like.”

Friends, aka, people I like, I’m sorry I was bitterly rude to you both this morning. I didn’t mean it, and I know that at least one of you knows that. It might be a bit of an understatement to say that I’m not much of a morning person. I just, I just…I didn’t sleep last night for a variety of reasons and then I got woken up too early to news I didn’t want to hear. Then I snapped at someone else because I couldn’t have my way and they didn’t show the appropriate amount of remorse about it. Then I waited 3 hours for the “news” to be delivered, and  actually…I’m still waiting for said “news!” I just, I just…today sucks.

“What’s your point, HFT?!” (Don’t you love how I talk for you?)

My point is, I’ve spent all morning feeling angry, cranky, confused, jealous, and slightly evil. This, in turn, got me thinking about how I interact with the people closest to me, which inevitably led me to question my femmeness. 

Its no lie, I like hyperbole. Like this morning when I yelled from my room, “I’m always waiting on BOYS!” This statement, although brought on by the events of this morning, was really an expression of a lot of repressed feelings I brought home with me from California. Each day I was there was structured around two meals a day with 18-21 members of my closest family. I made it a point to attend each one of these meals because I know how important it is to my grandparents to have us all in one room, and I don’t need to be the one detracting from their happiness (there’s like 6 other people who have got that covered {two of them being the men directly related to me}). Needless to say, I went to most of these meals as the sole representative of my part of the family, which is totally fine. I prefer it actually. More time devoted to telling me how beautiful and smart I’ve become, and less time devoted to damage control. Fab. However, on the occasion that I would be accompanied by the male contingent of my immediate clan we would always show up 45 minutes to an hour and a half late, which is completely and utterly unacceptable to me. Neither of them could figure out why it irritated me so much. I would storm around the house, telling them we had to leave now, belittle them, wait outside, pull the car around, honk the horn. If its passive aggressive, I did it. (Before someone tries to tell me that I should have been forward and honest about why their lateness bothers me: Actual conversation where one person speaks and another person listens is not a reality in my family.) I got so worked up and upset about waiting for them, and in turn making our family wait for us (read: me). 

Its not just my family. Its all around me. I’m so sick of waiting for people. Am I really the only person in my life who can get somewhere on time? Goddess, that sounds terrible, I’m sorry. I don’t mean it like that though, loves. Don’t you think its rude? Don’t you think its inconsiderate? Don’t you care about my time, or my needs, or my social agenda? 

But here’s the kicker (and crux of the femmesistential crisis): Do I enable this behavior by not being vocal about it? I mean, I know thats not an option within my family life, and I’m okay with that. But I have an overwhelming ability to grin and bear it, so to speak. If its cold, you wont’ see me shiver. If I don’t like food thats served to me, you’d never know. If you wake me up in the morning and ask if you’ve woken me, I’ll tell you that you haven’t. Basically, if my response is going to cause you, or someone grief, I’ll just keep it to myself.

Fucked up, right?

But it’s kind of not fucked up. Its actually a quality that I value in myself. Obviously its a trait I picked up from the original Martyr Mom (my own). She always makes everyone feel completely comfortable, and good about themselves because she is “part of the solution, not the problem.” So she never shows any weakness, rarely shows any discontent when not amongst safe company, and never, EVER, expects anyone to go out of their way for her. If someone made her wait she wouldn’t ever tell them how much it had offended her, she would say that it was no problem at all, and she really wasn’t even waiting.

Something about being femme to me has to do with being able to shelf your shit. And I have to say, loudly, that it is distinctively different from getting walked on. I am very vocal about the things that are important to me, and in general I get my needs met. I just don’t find it necessary to send back food at a restaurant, or complain about how cold it is when waiting outside with a friend. So do I need to start being more outspoken about waiting? Does it transcend the line between shelfing and getting trampled on? Does it even really matter?

Have I totally lost it this time? Am I a horrible person for thinking all these angry thoughts about people I love DEARLY? Do you guys still love me? Do you think that I internalize too much shit and thats why I’m all crazy in the head? 

Since I started my new job I haven’t once been actually happy to go there. Today, 5pm cannot come quick enough. I’d give anything for a diversion from this shit. 

I love you all, very much. Sorry I’m a crazy.

xx

 

…I’m still waiting on the “news.”

Check in

A few things,

1. I’m getting pretty freaking sick of my videos not working. I know, I know, you would appreciate if I actually wrote something, sometime. Well, I don’t care! I want to post music videos all the time and I will DAMMIT! (I fixed the last one, go watch it, would ya?)

2. I dreamt of earthquakes last night. Not a good sign.

3. I took the GREs. I did very poorly. Hurray!

The end.
xx

World AIDS Day Blog-a-thon: HFT Style!

Amplify’s Word AIDS Day Blog-a-thon

xx

Homesick

There aren’t really words for where my head it at. Here are some things that are currently controlling my brain. 

 

 

 

Wish me luck, eh?

 

xx

Spotlights don’t do you justice baby.

Its happening, babies! 

Read my first blog post over at Amplify! 

Here’s your moment of sexy. 

(Thanks Wesley, darling.)

xx

 

(I’M GOING TO SEE TWILIGHT TOMORROW NIGHT AT 12:05!!!!!)

Obligatory

I’m sorry, but it had to be done.

 

xx

Say The Word and This Blog Will be the Next Gossip Girl.

I freaking love Gossip Girl. 

This was a long time coming and you all know it. Duh, you say. I’ve only seen episode 7,8, and 9 so far, plus the most recent one of season 2. It’s not much but its enough for me to know that this show was made for me.

“HFT,” you ask, “what do you love so much about this vapid show?” Don’t worry baby, I was just about to tell you.

- Forbidden love. I love forbidden love. As someone who is *extremely* well versed in friends sleeping with friends and friends sleeping with exes and friends sleeping with generally anyone that they’re not supposed to, Gossip Girl makes me feel right at home. (Ps, Friends- Thank goddess we don’t have a gossip girl. Think of all the heartbreak! On the other hand, maybe me and my little blog here need to take on a new role in your lives. Let the picture texting begin!)

-Really, really, really rich white teenagers. Talk about feeling right at home! Oh the joys of being able to take manhattan by storm with mutti and vati’s hard earned cash.

-Obvs I love the racial minority twins that don’t say anything. Granted, I’ve only seen them in 3 episodes, so I’ll continue to give them the benefit of the doubt. But really? Do they need to dress the same, always?

-The clothes! I will say, the season 2 episode I saw really upped the ante on high fashion. Maybe it was because Jenny had broken out of her shell and became a total babe. Also, although Blake Lively doesn’t really do it for me physically, she has a body that clothes were made for. Its really fun to watch them prance around in those ridiculous outfits. Well, fun for me at least.

-Last but not least,

Chuck and Nate are total PYTs. (That right, I just said PYT).

 

That’s all for now kiddos, but prepare for more GG obsessed updates soon. Now its time for my tri-weekly visit to the Look Diner. 

Stay fabulous, pretties.

xx

What I’ve Learned This Week

-We are officially upon the “dawn of a new era.”

-Apparently, the passing of prop 8 means that people of color are homophobic. 

-Rachel Maddow is my soulmate (cass, I will fight you).

-Jasper loves feathered toys.

-I can go see Twilight on Nov 20th at 12:01 am. Excuse me, I will be seeing Twilight on Nov 20th and 12:01 am.

-I really want to own a fun factory share.

-”Stone Femme” is a hotly debated topic. Anyone want to muse about this with me?

-The universe is majorly working in my favor by making one of my huge crushes and good friend of my roommate! Sweet!

theendkthxbyeloveyoumeanit.

xx

Settling for The American Jungle of Lipstick Teenagers

edit:: fixed the video. watch it. 

I am truly at a loss. TV is *so* letting me down right now. I’m sick of celebreality (I know, you’re shocked), and I can’t find a good show to get behind analyzing. Its a good thing that Rachel Maddow came into my life or I might have no need to pay for cable. (I know, I know, her show is podcasted now.)

So what do I do? I settle. Thats right, I’m settling with my television choices.

Lipstick Jungle and The Secret Life of the American Teenager.

Shut up. Just shut up, okay? 

I’m way closeted about the Lipstick Jungle thing, but I guess I just came out. Its too boring nbc primetime to warrant any critical thought- although, they did just incorporate their first character of color, after a FULL season. Oh yeah, and Kirby Atwood is a total babe. 

The Secret Life of the American Teenager, on the other hand. Woa. Well thanks ABC Family *cough*Disney*cough*. This show leaves literally no stereotype unturned. Young white girl gets pregnant the first time she has sex. Is impregnated by white rebel drummer boy who has a penchant for promiscuous sex because he was molested by his father- now in foster care. She has two best friends, one is white and gossipy, the other is the quintessential black best friend. Also, black best friend’s dad is drummer boy’s therapist. They are the the only black characters on the show. Drummer boy has a vaguely casual sexual relationship with the “school slut” who just happens to be latina. Latina girl’s mom is having an affair with pregnant girl’s father. Coincidence? Duh, no. And don’t you worry, the head cheerleader and the quarterback are dating. But they’re not having sex, apparently unlike everyone else on the show. She has pledged her abstinence to her family, and the dudebro jock’s dad is the minister. Yeah, again, *thanks* abc family. Oh yeah, oh yeah-pregnant girl’s boyfriend is typical awkward well-intentioned white kid and he has two asian best friends. The girl asian friend is a “feminist” (she doesn’t let the boys call girls ‘chicks’) and just happens to know a lot of statistics about teen sexual behavior. (Boy am I glad that ‘asian math genius’ wasn’t left out.) Did I mention that Molly Ringwald plays the mom?

Pregnant girl has a 12, no, 13 year old sister. She is the shining light in this dismal display of moralizing teenage life. She starts out as your basic tween rebel. Belly shirt, short skirts, black hair/lipstick. Lani would like to add that although this character is pretty cliched, she reminds her of herself at that age. Valid, def. So beneath her banal rebellious exterior it turns out that she is actually the show’s voice of reason! She is snarky, dark, sarcastic and totes hilarious- all while being most well adjusted character of the bunch. 

Wow Disney, you’ve really outdone yourself. You’ve done nothing new here. There is nothing innovative about this supposedly expositional look at American teenage life. Its nothing but trite and tired stereotypes. Its a regurgitated story that youth are spoon fed. It is supposed to be indicative of young american life when really its a tool used to manipulate and moralize young people’s choices. 

Ew. Gross. 

So I watched some Gossip Girl tonight. Did you know that its about 14-18 year olds that have sex and blog? (Of course you know that. I’m the only person in the whole world who didn’t know that.) Tell me, friends, what do I love more than adolescent coming of age tales and blogging? Thats right, nothing. I’ve been so misguided. Prepare for me to become obsessed with GG. 

Also, a total cutie that I worked with during my “I’m not in college anymore!” summer in Provincetown is going to be on the new season of Top Chef. Look for updates about his progress- obvs Patrick will be the team favorite.

All this from the girl who hasn’t written a blog post in weeks. I’m suprised that all just came out of me. Maybe this is my prep for when I enter the big leagues. Also, I’m hugely procrastinating on writing my grad school personal essays.

On that note, this song makes me feel sexxy. I hope it does the same for you.

xx