Sunday, October 31, 2010

Trick or Treat

Halloween is my favorite holiday of the year. For as long as I can remember, I have always put some kind of great effort into making sure Halloween was a fun and great success. Finding a fun costume idea to create, finding a fun group of people to go out with and finding an awesome party to attend. There's just something so fun about dressing up in costume and pretending to be someone else for the night, losing all your inhibitions behind some polyester, face makeup and a wig. (Oh, and how could I forget the candy?)

It started with a mismatched Minnie Mouse costume my mom made for me by hand in Kindergarten. The polka dots were pink on blue background for the skirt and bow and my mom made ears and a tail using wire with black stocking fabric stretched over it and I drew on some whiskers and a nose. Not too shabby.

In 3rd grade I was a nerd. I wore a white shirt with suspenders, a beanie, thick glasses with tape on them, high waisted pants, saddle shoes and a kick me sign on the back.

4th grade, I was a jester. I sewed 2 different color shirts and shorts together, wore colored stockings, made pom poms for my shoes and wore a jester hat my mom got in Las Vegas along with a star pointed wand. Then I made the fringe/pointed neck thing out of a giant piece of felt and sewed pom poms on that that too.

5th grade, I was a princess - wearing an old bridesmaid dress that my mom had & a princess hat, again courtesy of the Excalibur hotel and resort, Las Vegas.

7th grade, I was a witch. I made the dress out of an old black dress my aunt had; cut the sleeves off, made a v-neck and fringed bottom. wore fishnets and boots and had a hat and a broom.

9th grade, I was a punk rock girl/dominatrix. I wore a leopard print teddy I stole from my mom's drawer with a sheer black hoodie over it, fishnets, boots, a regular hoodie and spray painted my hair green, orange and purple, a tiara and wore lots of dark makeup and bracelets. Then, my best friend Lisa was my bitch: she wore a pair of my wide leg plaid pants, my wingtips and a collar which I hooked a dog leash on to.

10th grade, Mary Catherine Gallagher from SNL. Borrowed my friend's Catholic school uniform, wore a headband and stuck my fingers under my armpits like THIS....... and sniffed them. (I never did give that uniform back and it has been greatly defiled since then.) 

 12th grade, I was supposed to be Tinkerbell. I got this old, light green frilly dress from my Grandma, got fairy wings, put pom poms on sparkly ballet shoes and put my hair up in a bun. However, I got really bad food poisoning the night before so I didn't get to wear it to school. I wore it to my friend's Halloween party that night and was still not feeling well, so I sat in a chair in the corner and was grumpy Tinkerbell. This was also the same day I took (and passed!) my road test.

2001 - French Maid. (Store bought, sadly.)
2002 - "Graver" (Goth Raver) - All black clothes, makeup & fishnets. (and black bunny ears.)

2003 - Care Bear; Got a Pink Care Bear hoodie at Hot Topic, pink PJ pants, pink gloves, made a "Care Bear" heart out of foam and stuck it to my butt. Drew little pink dots on my face. (Oh yeah, and I made that Red Bull costume for my Ex too; Cut a blue & grey shirt up & sewed it together. Cut all the letters out of red foam. He got so many compliments on it - and even free Red Bull from the bartender at the club.)

2004 - Sexy Nurse. Also store bought. Plus hooker heels & lots of curly hair.
 2005 - I was nothing. I just wore a festive halloween shirt and socks.My ex said I looked like a kindergarten teacher, so maybe that could have been my costume. He wore a hula skirt and a lei over his clothes and we went to California Pizza Kitchen for dinner.

2006 - I was a Fallen Angel. Store bought last minute because my ex decided 2 days before Halloween he wanted to go to the parade in NYC and I didn't have a costume.

2007 - Sexy Harry Potter/Hermione. Didn't get to wear it out though because my ex trapped me at home once he saw what I was wearing.

2008 - Greek Goddess. Store bought but my date's Gladiator costume was semi-homemade. (My mom stole the tunic which was one of those robes they give you at the Dr's office. It was too perfect.)

2009 - Lady Gaga. Home made. Leotard from American Apparel, Blond wig cropped & made the Hair bow. 2 Hula Hoops together to make that big, hooped contraption she's always photographed in. And purple feathered fake eyelashes.

This year, my Halloween plans got derailed and so, my Sookie Stackhouse (from True Blood - not to be confused with Snooki from Jersey Shore) costume sits in the closet to see another year, or possibly some type of Comic Con event in the future. 

Happy Halloween Everyone! 

Wednesday, October 27, 2010

Just Average

I got my grade back the other day for my post-Masters International Business class that I took this session: B+. That makes it the second B+ I have gotten in this program so far. It really speaks volumes for the path that my life as taken. All my life has really been is one giant series of B+s.

When I was 2 years old, I taught myself to read. I baffled a woman on line at the bank once when my dad had me in the baby sling and we were having a full-fledged conversation. (My dad loves to tell this story.) He says the woman tapped him on the shoulder and asked him who he was talking to. When he showed her me, she just couldn't believe that tiny little me was talking in complete and intelligent sentences. She told my dad that I was a brilliant child and would succeed one day.

I started school early and was always a year younger than my peers. It made me feel special and elite because I was younger and smarter. I was reading on a 5th grade level in 2nd grade. When my parents moved to Westchester and wanted to put me in public school for 3rd grade, the school wanted to put me back in 2nd grade because I was so young. My parents knew I was too smart for that and needed a challenge. So, luckily, I got into one of those super fancy Magnet schools for advanced kids and continued on with 3rd grade. Except, now that I was in a public school with other kids, I started to not feel as smart anymore. There were other kids excelling at the same level as I was that made me feel inferior. I had to take aptitude tests to see where I stood since I had been in private school up until now.

In 4th grade, students who were above average could be admitted to TAG - the talented and gifted program.... And I didn't get in. It really discouraged me. I thought that I was definitely in that group. I was on that level intellectually. So how did I qualify as "talented and gifted"? A few other parents, as well as my mom, caused an uproar over TAG and in 5th grade the program was revamped as "Kaleidescope", and I finally got in. But because of my exclusion the previous year, I still didn't feel like I was competing with all these other students in the group. I just felt average.

When middle school came, we were all divided into 3 "Houses". The Green House was all the super-duper smart kids, the Red House was the athletic and popular kids, and then there was me, lumped in with all the leftovers in the Blue House. I kind of became resigned to my fate. I never stressed out over assignments. I never studied for tests except finals. Everything just came naturally to me. But because of that, I was always just a B+ student. Even in High School - I probably could have tried studying more and working harder, but it just never occurred to me to try. I only applied to 3 colleges, all of them in Boston. My top choice, Boston University, I failed to get into. Why? Because I was just average. I didn't have a long string of extracurriculars. My SATs were a 1230. I came from a middle-class family. I just didn't stand out from all the other B+ students who applied.

College was more of the same. Switched schools a few times. Switched majors a few times. Settled in the familiar and graduated with a 3.0.

But the rest of my life has always been B+ status as well. If I found a guy I liked, he wound up liking my friend. My friends always had boyfriends before me, lost their virginities before me. They were popular and pretty and I was just average. In my relationships, I never came first (literally and figuratively). Guys played with my heart strings because I was easy, vulnerable and average. I wasn't that breathtaking beauty that could twirl them around my finger and keep them coming back for more, to keep them at my command. At work, I don't win awards or get to sit in on important meetings. I just hang out in the background making sure things are still getting done and winning silent praise when necessary.

I am just a pattern on wallpaper, not the centerpiece of the room. I have always been just average.

And.... I've kind of gotten used to it. Sometimes drawing too much attention to yourself just highlights your flaws, makes your small faults greater, puts more pressure on you, magnifies your weaknesses....

Maybe its better to just fly under the radar and gain sporadic recognition than to always be in the spotlight.

Maybe sometimes, it's ok to just be average.

Tuesday, October 26, 2010


I got a little lazy and dug up an old blog post from another of my blogs, but it's still relevant - so enjoy!


Rene Descartes viewed hate as an awareness that something is bad, combined with an urge to withdraw from it. Baruch Spinoza defined hate as a type of pain that is due to an external cause.Aristotle viewed hate as a desire for the annihilation of an object that is incurable by time.Finally, David Hume believed that hate is an irreducible feeling that is not definable at all.

In psychology, Sigmund Freud defined hate as an ego state that wishes to destroy the source of its unhappiness. In a more contemporary definition, the Penguin Dictionary of Psychology defines hate as a "deep, enduring, intense emotion expressing animosity, anger, and hostility towards a person, group, or object." Because hatred is believed to be long-lasting, many psychologists consider it to be more of an attitude or disposition than a (temporary) emotional state.


Hate is perhaps the worst 4 letter word in the world. Worse that "shit", "cunt", "fuck", "twat".... Hate carries with it more meaning, more force, more of a curse than any of those other words. To truly hate someone, to feel hatred towards another person, is the strongest, most intense feeling one can have.... almost as intense as love. And unfortunately, sometimes love can lead to hate....

There is one person in the world that I can say that I truly hate. The feeling is so intense that it becomes consuming... Every time I think of him, what he's done, what he continues to do, it makes me physically ill. I wish I could just punch him, kick him, hit him in the face with a baseball bat, run him over with my car & then put it in reverse and run over him again (but oh wait, my car is too low to even make it through the car wash, so how could I run him over?) 

He ruined my life and yet continues to exist unscathed. Because of him, I had to be re-medicated for my anxiety disorder; I lost a job, I lost friends, I lost the respect of my parents, I ruined my credit, I basically flushed thousands of dollars down the toilet, I had to file for bankruptcy, and I was on the verge of admitting myself to an institution and ending my life on several occasions because he made me hit rock bottom....I thought that was the only way out from the life of hell I was living.... the scars exist on my arms and remind me constantly of the pain that he put me through and continues to put me through today.... I will NEVER forgive and I will NEVER forget. I HATE YOU. 



I am trying to pull myself together though - trying to move on and start over. It's a slow but steady process... I managed to find someone else who is going through the same thing, who is basically the same person as me - my missing twin, and me and her are getting through this together... 

I want to be able to feel again one day, to not live in fear of being hurt, to not put up a wall that you will never be able to scale. I want so badly to love again, to love the purest kind of love... and for someone to love me the way I deserve to be loved. Love is another horrible four letter word, for once it leaves your lips, it can never be taken back. It carries with it such force, it can change your life forever. The next time I say the word "love", it's going to be for real, it's going to be life changing, it's going to be wonderful, and it's going to be forever. 


I just want you to know that I have all this baggage, and I hope it doesn't scare you away. I want to kiss your sweet lips over and over, and feel your body against mine, your heart beating rapidly in my ears... I wanna fit right in that space underneath your chin with your arms around me because you're tall, and wrap my arms around you too. I wanna come up and hug you from behind and lay my head on your back and listen to you breathing. I want to look at you while you're looking at me and smile and not speak because we both know just from a look. I just wanna see you smile and know that smile is there because of me. 

Sometimes there are so many things we want to say to someone, we find it hard to put them into words. Feelings are sometimes so impossible to vocalize - and sometimes, you're not quite sure how. This is how I get out my feelings: I write. That's who I am. I'm a writer. I could put into prose every little heart flutter and nervous sweat that you build up inside me, yet never be able to bring myself to tell you how I feel aloud. So I'll just sit there and bite my lip and wonder....

Monday, October 18, 2010

Miss Misery

In case you weren't already aware (and sorry to put it so bluntly) I fucking hate it here in Philly. It makes me miserable. There is just something about living in this area: the traffic, the erratic and reckless driving, the awful accents (South Philly and the borderline southern redneck ones), the sport fans, the lack of culture and diversity, the lack of decent pizza, the bizarre and atrocious liquor laws, the people... I could go on about it all day.

Ok, yes, I know, being a total New York snob, I'm probably not giving this place much of a chance. But there is just something in the air here that makes me feel like I'm sticking out like a sore thumb. I drove home this weekend and as I drove deeper and deeper through Jersey towards the George Washington Bridge, I could feel the calm wash over me. And as I hit my stretch of I-95 from the Bronx all the way up through Connecticut, something clicked: I was home.

I spent all day Saturday soaking in the essence of New York City: Riding the 6 train and people watching, looking longingly over Japanese fashions in the FIT museum, walking those long city streets, eating in a cute little restaurant in Greenwich Village, sipping delicious drinks with friends in an underground speakeasy, watching the Yankees play on TV in an Irish pub, mingling with the masses in Times Square. From the Bronx, into Manhattan, rounding the night out in Queens - where I hope to live in when I move back to NY next year, pointing out bars and restaurants I've already tagged on a Google map to acquaint myself with my future neighborhood - and back to the Bronx, I felt wide awake in the City that Never Sleeps.

And then I had to drive back to PA today. Despite the weather being beautiful compared to the torrential rain I drove up to CT in, a pit just sank deeper in my stomach as I got closer and closer to this place that I am currently calling "home". New York just makes me feel so alive. My life constantly feels like one of those video games where a little line is in the upper right corner, monitoring your character's health. Every day that I am here, those green lines slowly start fading into yellow and then dangerously close to red. But going home re-energizes me, and those green lines are all filled up again.


Being alone in this city doesn't help, either. Emmett is gone, away having the most amazing experience of his life and I can't even compete with that. That just makes me more miserable. Between crying over him and crying over being stuck here, I should seriously invest in Kleenex stock. I just wish I could be with him, watching him be happy and being happy together, smiling this smile I swear he only smiles for me that makes me melt. I'm happy for him but I suppose jealous in a way, too. I had hoped Philly would be the same enlightening, life changing, eye opening experience; a way to turn my life around and start over from the awful stand-still spot it was stuck in, just like he's doing now. (I also hoped that moving here would mean we'd be closer and together.) And again, I know people will say I'm not giving this place enough of a shot, but I shouldn't have to force it. I shouldn't have to force myself to enjoy it here or to feel an emotion about this place that doesn't exist and probably never will.

I hate being the silly, crying girl who worries all the time. I hate feeling clingy and awful and miserable and don't want to bring everyone else down so I don't talk about it. I hold everything inside, which I guess makes me even more miserable. I am trying to distance myself from the obsessive and longing feelings that I have for Emmett. I put away pictures of us and keep trying to stop thinking about him and how great he is and the little things that he does that make me smile, the memories of us that make me smile. I am trying to push past this wave of emotion and outrun it - to move beyond this intangible relationship that will never happen, to move beyond feeling like I'm not good enough when it has nothing to do with me, to move beyond thinking that he never thinks about me and doesn't care because I am always thinking about him and I always care - all I do is think and care. I need to just lock all that part of my life up in a little box and throw away the key. Otherwise, it will continue to consume me and eat away at me and completely devoid my life of the happiness that I am not allowing myself. (In that aspect of my life, anyway.)

And so, everything I built up in my head, these fictitious scenarios about the future stemming from our real life interactions and conversations; I have to break them down slowly brick by brick and start to lay the mortar around my heart and move those cinder blocks back to rebuild the wall that had been up for so long before I met him.


you make me come
you make me complete
you make me completely miserable


Its so hard to let go, but sometimes love isn't enough of a reason to keep on hanging on.

Saturday, October 2, 2010

It Gets Better

I can't say enough about how much I love the Gay community. I self-identify as being Bisexual, but secretly, I'm convinced I'm just a fabulous gay man trapped in a woman's body. I pretty much embrace every aspect of Gay-ness; Adoration of pop idols, house music, fashion, movies, musicals. Some of the most fun, amazing and wonderful people I know are Gay. I am an avid supporter of Gay rights, Gay Marriage and the repeal of Don't Ask, Don't Tell. Almost every young boy I surrounded myself with growing up turned out to come out after high school. This is probably why my Gaydar is so good: I've been a Fag Hag since the playground days. And it's pretty much my life-long goal to have Drag Queens dress up as me and a gaggle of fabulous and fierce Gay Boys following me around.

I guess maybe I'm just lucky that I grew up in such a Liberal area with a somewhat wonderfully open-minded family. (Except of course for my super Irish-Catholic grandparents) My Aunt lived in the heart of Chelsea, NYC's Gay Mecca. I remember one day going to breakfast with her and she said to me, "Now, if you see two men holding hands, don't be alarmed." I told her that we had a Gay couple in my High school and that it didn't matter to me. Love is Love, no matter who's doing it.

But sometimes, other people are not so lucky to live in such a Liberal, Urban paradise as New York. Sometimes, people are not as accepting or supporting of alternative lifestyles. Gay youths face the fear of having to come out to their families and be shunned in return for simply being who they are. They face bullying at school, on the streets, in their workplaces. And often times, this extreme bullying turns tragic. Gay youths, fearing that they have no way out, that things are at the lowest point, that there is no light at the end of the tunnel, wind up taking their own lives.

In the past 3 weeks, 9 Gay youths have committed suicide because of bullying; In the most extreme case, a 18 year old Rutgers University student was secretly video taped having sex with a man by his classmates, and the video was posted on the internet - both outing and humiliating him. He jumped off the George Washington Bridge.

This needs to end.

Through the time that George W Bush was in office, a witch hunt was in effect across our country. The hatred for Gays and Lesbians grew stronger and more violent over the last 10 years; Not since Stonewall have we seen this level of ignorance and atrocious acts committed toward the Gay community. From our own President attempting to pass a Federal Law prohibiting Gays and Lesbians from getting married to the fact that an archaic law such as Don't Ask, Don't Tell still remains on the books; This is 2010 - we should be more open-minded and more accepting of our fellow human beings by now. But yet, the seeds of ignorance have been planted into the minds of our youths by bigoted Adults who do not want to change their prejudices.

There needs to be a change in the way that we all think and not simply a mob mentality. Gay teens today need to know that one day, they won't have to live in fear anymore. That things will get better. That it does get better. That there are people in this world who will love them and accept them and be there for them, regardless of how grim things may seem right now. But that they have to be alive to experience the better.

Please do whatever you can to help make a stand and help make things right. Leave your ignorant beliefs and prejudices behind. Help make the world a better place. Help prevent these senseless deaths.

Visit the Trevor Project's website: They are doing something amazing and you can too: