Thursday, June 30, 2011

Flighty Flighty Girl

Today did it for me. I'm done.

Gay rights are very important to me. We should be allowed to marry. But for me, it's based on principle, because I will never get married. I do not believe in marriage at all.

I'm done.

It never made sense to me. My whole life I've been surrounded by divorce and deception. I didn't see one single successful storybook marriage.

Except for my sister's marriage. Her and her husband had, in my one-sided view, a perfect marriage. The only one I've ever seen. They seemed so happy and so perfect for one another. But as with many one-sided views, my perception was skewed.

My brother-in-law asked my sister for a divorce this week. He was cheating on her.

I do not know of one married couple who have a marriage worth having.

It doesn't even fucking make sense to me. People are constantly changing. The whole concept of marriage goes against human nature. Also, what the fuck does marriage even mean anymore? My parents are "together" but they're not married. They don't need that stupid title to be happy together.

I'm done. Fuck marriage. I don't care what you say. I don't care if you think "oh you have to find the right person." It's just not for me. Who knows, maybe it works for you.

Monday, June 20, 2011

Making Out

Me: Kevin, you know that girl I have a super big crush on?
Kevin: Yes.
Me: Well do you know that horse I sat on in Doylestown?
Kevin: Yes.
Me: Well I was creeping on her Facebook and I found a picture of her kissing it!
Kevin: So...?
Me: IT'S LIKE I MADE OUT WITH HER!

Pretty Chill

I had a nice weekend. It started off "eh" on Friday. Keith and I were gonna go party but it just wasn't that kind of a night. It was a night to chill out. So we sat at my dining room table with a nice dim light on at 8pm in silence and it hit me.

"Let's go to the beach. We can sleep in my Jeep."

About 45 minutes later we were driving through the pine barrens with the windows down and 90's music blasting.

We got there and it was eerie. The beach was foggy, it was high tide, and there was a full moon. After walking on the beach, we walked on the boardwalk, met up with friends, and danced at the trashiest bar ever. Then we all went on another nighttime beach walk. We ended up sleeping on our friend's couch.

The next day we chilled on the beach.

Saturday night continued the awesome weekend. I hung out with Keith, Keely, and Troy. We went to see my friend Bruno's band. By the end of the night I was wasted on Keely's living room floor, bright red, and wearing one of her shirts that read "This girl needs a beer." Keith and I slept over.

We ended our relaxing weekend on Sunday with a nice 60 mile cruise through little country towns in Keith's Wrangler with Rita's in hand and some good cruising music blasting.

Every weekend should be like that.

Sunday, June 12, 2011

Pride.

I wanted to go to Philly Pride but I had no one to go with. So I figured FUCK IT. Just because no one wants to fucking go with me doesn't mean I don't have to go. So I hopped into my Jeep (which my friends keep teasing me about because supposedly that's very butch of me) and headed to the train station.

And then I missed the train. And sat around for an hour until the next one came.

I walked my ass off in the scorching heat for many many many blocks, waited in a long line for my Pride wrist band, and at the entrance I found two of my favorite gay boys in the world-- Alex and Andrew. And then one friend after another started popping up everywhere. I had no idea how many gay people I know. How the fuck can you just go to Philadelphia and randomly run into like 20 people you know? It was so bizarre to me.

After all three of us got our fill of queens, kings, spray-tanned men walking around in tight briefs, women wearing only bras because it was too hot for shirts, rainbow dyed poodles, and a lady wearing only duct tape over her nipples screaming "I got lemonade on my tits," we went to get cheesesteaks and fucking randomly Keely happens to be walking by with her friend who makes balloon animals. So yeah, Keely had her friend make me a blue balloon flower and then we adopted her. Keely stayed with us the rest of the night.

We headed to the Gayborhood and got some drinks. Put a rainbow flag on our table and declared it the gayble. We just chilled for a few hours, got some more drinks. Giggled at the gay couples passing.

Then we went to a stoop. Yes, a stoop. There were about 10 lesbian hipsters chillin' on a random porch playing music and singing. We were offered beer and pizza from complete strangers. Someone busted out a hookah. It was the most relaxed atmosphere ever. We all sang along to songs and talked to random people passing by.

After that we went to a gay club. I had about six million shots from a little gay asian in tighty whities. I danced with Alex and it was fun. I happened across some more friends, randomly. Oh and Keely and I made eye contact with a bisexual man on a stripper pole and he motioned me to come over to dance with him. He was like a model, no fucking lie. And then he asked us to have a threesome with him. He was completely serious. It was intense.

And then we all sang along to Lady Gaga on the way home in Andrew's gay Prius. And at one point Alex was serenading me and Keely while we made out in the back seat. End of story.

Thursday, June 9, 2011

fuck it all

I need to vent. Really bad. This is going to be horribly written. I'm not going to edit it. I'm not going to cut shit out or whatever, it is what it is. My grammar will suck, my syntax will suck, my diction will suck even more, but that's okay. I need to get this motherfucking shit out.

I both incredibly love and incredibly hate my life at the same time.

Let me start with the positive. I love the crap out of my life. I love my friends, I love my adventures, I love my new found alcoholism (deal with it), I love myself, I love where I live, I love my whole situation, I love everything about myself. I'm happy. I have fun. I'm irresponsible. I don't give a shit. I do what I want when I want to do it. I make out with girls for giggles. I go on tons of dates. I sit around the hookah with my roomies and laugh my troubles away. I have naughty webcam adventures with my best friend and eat way too much fucking ice cream and whatever, I don't care. I'll eat it all. I work out and I love my body. I love sex but I'm not a whore. I don't like casual sex but I don't deprive myself either. I make mistakes. I make really fucking big mistakes like being the cause of my two engaged friends breaking up. I couldn't help it, I was drunk. I love my mistakes. I hate the fact that there are videos out there that might haunt me for years to come, but oh fucking well. It was worth the moment of freedom. And you know what, that freedom makes me smile. Every mistake was worth it in the end.

I really do not giving a flying fuck about anything.

Except my parents.

My parents are the only ones who bring me down. The only ones who make me cry. The only ones who make me hate my fucking life and want to die. My mother was my best friend in the whole entire world and she has abandoned me. My dad was always there for me when my mother wasn't and he's avoiding me like I have the bubonic plague or something.

I feel like an orphan. I feel so alone and unloved. I don't understand it at all. I'm a good person. I'm a great daughter. What does it matter if I like girls? My mother is fucking stupid. Absolutely stupid for tossing away our relationship over something so fucking incredibly insignificant.

I don't have parents anymore. I have myself. And I plan on being as fucking reckless as possible over the next few days to get over my misery. I don't give two flying fucks about consequences. Bring on the shots. I'm starting by going to Keely's house for some drinks. And I don't care if I go to work tomorrow morning puking all over the place. FUCK IT ALL.

Sunday, June 5, 2011

Glitter and Unicorns

I just had the most random night I've had in a long time. I mean, I've taken a break from posting ridiculous drinking stories because I know all of you are probably so bored by it. Besides, I have at least one ridiculous alcohol story a week.

Well, I had three ridiculous alcohol stories this week, but last night in particular sticks out.

Let me give you the short version.

I went to a bar. A really fucking classy looking bar. And I was dressed in jeans and a hoodie. So was my lesbian friend.

And it ended in me and her falling asleep on the couch in a house owned by a 40 year old man we've never met before at 6 in the morning covered in vodka, cigar scent, and donut glaze. Mind you, we were awoken by a straight guy jumping on top of us yelling "glitter and unicorns."

And then the 40 year old man bought us breakfast in the morning.

Um, what?!