He was energetic and fun and hilarious and wrote absurd stories about Britney Spears’ mental breakdown, inspired by Perez Hilton, a precursor to Hipster Runoff for him. When he moved to my town in grade 10, we quickly became best friends. Alan and I sat beside each other in the computer lab and laughed at ‘I Can Haz Cheeseburger’ memes. I even wrote an extended metaphor about Alan, comparing him to a wild fire. We were both total pop-culture freaks and fashion divas. Our “friends” made fun of our friendship because I was a girl and he was a boy and it seemed like the natural thing to do? On our class trip to Vancouver, I sat next to him on the bus and our friends hung over the back of their seats, taking pictures of us and giggling.
I never thought he was gay. I don’t think it occured to me. Truthfully, I don’t think I even cared. But I did decided to write him a note, professing my undying CRUSH. I was very nervous about it, but I also thought #YOLO, except this was before YOLO was a thing, so I probably thought something like “I could die tomorrow!” I remember giving him the note while we were walking home from school with our friend Pat, and then quickly running away.
I wanted this to be like the TV shows. I wanted him to like me too, though I hadn’t thought about what might come after that.
We didn’t even talk about the note? I don’t remember talking about anything serious with Alan, actually. We were just total jokesters who flipped through Cosmo magazine at the public library, disturbing everyone trying to read with our profuse giggles.
The next year he moved away to Switzerland and I moved to Washington, D.C. We remained friends, and he later ‘came out’ to me via a Facebook message.
I had actually forgotten the whole ordeal, perhaps blocking it from my memory, until Alan reminded me about it last year. We remain BFFs, and now I find the whole thing absolutely hilarious.
My take home message is this: telling your crush that you like them doesn’t have to be a big deal! You can totally become better friends because of it! So do what feels right, and don’t ever regret it, I sure don’t.
(I Love you, Alan!)
Kellie, Hannah and I were cray lil’ misfit 15-years-old-but-look-11-years-old friends who met during a menacing tour of the school gym. We spent our days skipping school to watch episodes of Hannah Montana or running down sand dunes behind a recent suburb development. I had my first experiences watching indie movies (Garden State) and diva-fashion television (Seks and the City); I believe both experiences were had whilst eating that really cheap tub ice cream you can get at Superstore for 5 dollars. I had just moved to town after living in Ottawa and was starting to experiment … with vintage clothing! Until then my sartorial choices consisted mainly of sale items from the junior section of Old Navy. That store made me feel like I was a real lyfe “American Boy” (via 4th of July mentalitiez). Equipped with my first pair of skinny jeans and an inkling that I was more into Cory than Topanga.
One day I found myself walking home from school one day on the spiraling suburb streets with Kellie and Pat. Our casual chitchat abruptly ended when we approached Kellie’s house and she stared into my eyes (**r0mAnTiC**).
In my head I was all, “uh oh I like boys NAWT girls” but when she gave me this folded up paper, squealed “mmmgottago!!,” and sprinted through her front doors, I was speechless. I opened the paper and read her crush confession. The words she had written seemed like she also knew I wasn’t into girls, having a sort of defeatist attitude towards the prospect of our potential love story.
Pat, a strong silent sk8er type, said in his much lower voice, “aw dude that sucks,” and we continued on, in silence at first, but then reopened conversation to talk about school.
I was dreading going to school the next day since I had NO idea what to say. I definitely wasn’t ready to come out the closet (ok can we pause righ now to talk about what a terrible phrase that is !! like it’s some sort of grand event like that Cotillion on the OC, except you’re not sure if, once having walked down the staircase in your white Vera Wang/virginity portraying dress, people will applaud your subsequent dance or call you a faggot?). ‘Luckily’ Kellie and I acted as if the event had never happened, although it seemed to me as if we were in a way communicating non-verbally that we understood each other.
Recently I read a fabulous article on Vulture about Mindy Kaling, who is one of my idols, and, more importantly, one of my girl crushes. When she’s not talking about being a grown-ass woman who happens to like pop culture, she mentions a few of her strongly held, somewhat controversial opinions. Yes, her dislike of birthdays is surprising, but it’s not what I took issue with. Minds, as I sometimes call her when we are having romantic comedy marathons in my daydreams, said she hates the phrase ‘girl crush.’ She is certainly not the first to make such a statement, as I’ve read everything from serious pieces on political correctness to grammatically shameful Tumblr rants dealing with the phrase. But once I found out Mindy shares the opinion, I decided I had to take a stand.
Here’s the thing; I’m not going to hold it against you if you don’t want to use the term. That would be stupid and pointless and I don’t have enough drive to be so stubborn. But I don’t understand nor do I agree with people who take such a vehement stance against it. Do I get where they’re coming from? Of course. Yes, if you want to use a very narrow definition of the word ‘crush’ then it might be seen as backpeddling or homophobic to say “girl crush” because it is as if you are saying you can’t have a crush on another female (assuming you yourself are female; the same goes for the term “man crush” when used by those of the male variety). But with a word like “crush,” which is hardly any sort of serious academic term and much more of a cultural concept/abstraction, it’s meaning is not so confined to romantic ideas.
I can only speak for myself, but I don’t think I’m alone in saying that I don’t use “girl crush” to refer to women I might actually like romantically and/or be sexually attracted to. For any woman about whom I do feel that way (looking at you, Shannon Woodward), I will proudly announce my crush to the internet. (I don’t really leave the internet, or I’d say it out there, too.) To me, “girl crush” is a way to refer to a woman I really admire, either for her gorgeous looks (Katy Perry), her sparkling wit (Jennifer Lawrence), or her sense of fashion (Emma Watson), just to name a few. I might have a girl crush on someone for some very specific thing they do (Zooey Deschanel doesn’t take any crap for her public persona), or for some overall thing that they’ve done (who among us has not crushed on Helena Bonham Carter’s general badassery, and I mean crushed on it HARD). But the thing about my love for all of these woman, is that it’s not romantic or sexual, so it seems like it would be incorrect to just say “crush,” because it would demean the term’s connotation.
The thing about a “girl crush” is that it’s like saying you have a “talent” crush on someone because of the awesome skillz they have at whatever it is they do (writing, breakdancing, executing the perfect French braid), or a “beauty” crush (intense eyes, cute chin, manageable hair), or a “brains” crush (ability to do math, extensive trivia knowledge, quick comebacks). In some way, you admire this person for being the girl that they are, or woman, if you prefer. The point is, just because we have the freedom to be attracted to a person regardless of their sex, it doesn’t mean we can’t differentiate between sexual and non-sexual admiration for another human. In fact, we probably should, or none of my friends are going to realize how much I’d love to take Shannon Woodward to a drive-in movie.
- Gabby Costa, Staff Writer
Hey boys and girls. It’s time for an episode of Introversion for Dummies! I thought today we’d dive straight in to MY favorite topic:
That’s right, kids. There’s a difference.
1. Not all introverts are shy. I’m a “writer,” which means I’m also a bartender. When people come into my bar, I’m all like, “HEY, WHAT CAN I GET FOR YOU, YEAH THAT’S GREAT, AWESOME.” It’s a job that requires me to be very much the opposite of shy all the time. I also happen to be incredibly, painfully introverted. But how can that be? How do I interact with hundreds of drunk people every Friday night and live to tell the tale? Of course, it is entirely possible to simultaneously dread socializing and also be socially capable. I’m not about to go dance on a table, but that has less to do with my shyness and more to do with the fact that I really just don’t want to. Talking to people takes energy! Energy that I would much rather spend on my writing or my Netflix account or whatever.
2. Not all shy people are introverts. One of my best friends is the perfect example of a shy extrovert. She loves socializing, loves going out and meeting people, loves talking just to say something. But she also gets anxious and self-conscious every time she goes anywhere. She wants to be the center of attention and to get to know EVERYBODY, but she also struggles with some degree of social anxiety that makes it hard for her to socialize unless she’s been, uh…socially lubricated. Ladies, you know how it is.
3. Introverts are not necessarily socially awkward. While it’s probably true that most of the socially awkward people you will meet will be introverted by disposition, this is probably just due to the fact that introverts are less inclined to go out and practice those social skills. At the end of the day, though, that’s what it’s all about. Practice.
4. Extroversion and introversion have everything to do with how you prefer to function and nothing to do with how you actually function. Is the horse dead yet? Should I beat it some more?
Thank you and goodnight.
-Taylor Brogan, Contributing Editor
For the sake of journalism, I painted my nails 5 times this week. I did it because I love you, and because I love me, of course. I’m a nail polish junkie, and I find power in having brightly colored freaky finger nails. Although, there were several moments on the bus when I could feel people starring at my nails, and it took a lot of inner strength to feel strong and beautiful despite the judgmental nail nudists.
Illuminate the streets with these green-on-green Illuminati power nails! If you walk around with your nails like this, I guarantee award winning author Dan Brown will find you and whisper the Illuminati secret password in your ear.
#classy #art #dance #vintage #fab #glam #indie
Don’t try this at home kids. As you can see, it looks like shit. These ‘plaid’ nails gave me more pain than pleasure, and the only way I could make them look halfway decent was to have them pose with a fresh-baked oatmeal chocolate chip cookie.
No Foul Language? Fuck that. No Alcohol? lol im drunk right now. No Vehicles? Yeah I can’t afford a car, I ride the bus like a true covergirl. No Loitering? I’m literally always loitering. I was even loitering while I took this photo at a pre-school. I remember watching the little ones playing on the jungle gym, and there was this one kid who was just laying on his back in the sand, gently waving a stick in the air overhead. Hahah, what a champ.
If you look closely, these ruby red nails have a blue-glitter fringe. They don’t call me Kellie “Kindergarten Vogue” Hogan for nothing. Here’s my number so call me maybe.
When I worked at Chic-fil-A this summer, I wasn’t allowed to wear nail polish at all, so this fall I went TO TOWN. Solid pink nails, neon orange nails, glittery blue nails: basic bitches wear that shit so I don’t even bother. It’s all about the bi-coloured triangle nail. Banana death-grip. I got the swag, and it’s pumpin’ out my ovaries.
- Kellie Hogan
I went to Farm Boy and bought a small assortment of fruits that both interested me and I had never tasted before, because it seemed fun? So i’ll give you the low-down on who is IN and who is OUT.
1. Golden Kiwi
It wasn’t quite as yellow as I had hoped, but it was still pretty yellow. In the photo with it posing on the green cutting board, it’s color really pops. This fruit is quite a curious little kitten, it’s pretty much just like a regular kiwi, with a certain extra je ne sais quoi. Oh wait, I know quoi- it’s yellow. Cheers, mate.
Very odd, Asian seeming, rubbery candy that someone gave you at the back of math class in 5th grade. That’s what it tastes like. It’s that distinctively random Asian candy taste. I don’t particularly like it, but it’s too hard to hate it. It would probably be discribed by network TV execs as ‘Adorkable’.
3. Passion fruit
Like eating the insides of your lover. It makes you not hate the word ‘lover’. The flavor and fragrance are so extreme that you want to simulatinously sing, vomit and cry tears of joy. It’s a beautiful human experience.
4. ‘Yellow Crimson’ Watermelon
Yellow ‘Crimson’ (added during emo phase in middle school) Watermelon is a long and beautiful adventure through low-hanging branches and deep, muddy rivers that lead you to a grand waterfall at sunset. But as you take a drink from the sweet brook, you find yourself cursed with an enduring perpetual thirst.
When I cut it open and saw that it was blue inside I literally screamed. Not in fear, but in pure, unflinching joy. This little baby is the most luscious and perfect fruit I have encountered. It is the passion fruit without the knife in your heart. It is a long walk on the beach without the long walk part.
6. Cranberry Bean
My first impression of this fruit was that it is a bean. I felt attracted to its color, texture and oblong shape, but it just tastes dumb. I’m mildly angry at this bean.
7. Mirabelle Plum
It was hard to break into the flesh of this gloriously sunny-colored plum, but once I did, it was squirty and fun and flirty. The closer you get to the middle, the more sour this little devil seems to get. Overall joy to be around.
I made a salad by adding tomato, arugala, strawberries and some vinigrette to my fruity friends. It was pretty good, but I still prefer chocolate pudding.
Look at these two. He’s an All-American hero with grillz in his mouth and skillz in the pool. This man is perfect for one woman and one woman alone - Kate “Cat Daddy” Upton.
We can’t be the only ones who have noticed that these two literally have synchronized personalities. Right now we’re still torn between celebrity couple names “Loch’t Up” and “Kryan,” but there’s no doubt in our minds that whatever you call them, this couple will be more GOLDEN than one of Lochte’s medals. Don’t believe us? Here are just a handful of reasons why Kate Upton and Ryan Lochte need to just shut up and date already:
1. Stupidly hot. Like, who even is Ryan Lochte. Where did he get his abs? The ab store? And have you seen Kate Upton Cat Daddy? Unnnnfffff. We hereby declare that if these two ever got together, we could all just go home. Game over. The end. MAGIC.
2. Water Babies. Kate is a native Floridian and hardcore bikini-enthusiast. Ryan is a Gator. These two water babies can frolic together in the Florida waves forever and ever and ever…
3. Sporty? I mean, he’s an Olympian and she’s a Sports Illustrated cover girl. Lately she has been linked to Detroit Tiger Justin Verlander, but we think as soon as she sees this article, she’ll reconsider her choice of pro-athlete.
4. American Gangsters. Grills. Rhinestone kicks. Dance moves that rival Usher. These two are a match made in Gangster’s Paradise.
5. They Say the Darndest Things. To quote Ryan Lochte, “What defines Ryan Lochte? Ryan Lochte.” And Kate has frequently been mistaken for Miss “Like Such As” South Carolina. Just watch a couple of interviews and you’ll understand why we want to stick these two in a room and listen to them talk for like 5 hours.
We even made a cheesy OTP montage video to complete our weird fan-girling.
It is a truth universally acknowledged that Clint Eastwood emerged from the womb a grown-ass man.
As my designated ~*~DrEaM mAn~*~ a screenshot of a google image search for his face has been my twitter background for at least a month and a half now, and I have no plans to replace it in the forseeable future. You’ll understand, then, when I say that I have spent a lot of time thinking about this guy’s countless expressions, and I have gone so far as to caption a few for the LOLs. Ready? Go.