Tuesday, September 24, 2013

Rain, Rain, Feel Free to Stay

For the past year or so, ever since I publicly announced my intent to move to Seattle, I have had to deal with ~oh~ ~so~ ~many~ people offering some variation or other of this originally original helpfully helpful insightfully insightful advice:

       "Wait, you're clinically depressed? And you ~want~ to move to Seattle, where it never stops raining, ever? Just how crazy are you, stupid?"

But here's the thing:

1. It doesn't actually rain too terribly much. That's merely a legend that the locals perpetuate to frighten away the boring needy helpless whiny tourists.

2. Thunder & lightning remind me a) that I'm an artist and b) why I'm an artist.

3. Two words: Chemical imbalance. That wouldn't stop being a thing even if I moved to Jamaica.

4. Sometimes you just have to get wet & be thankful that you'll get dry again later.
Yeah, that sounds awful cheesy, but you know what? I love cheese almost as much as I love Ponies.

5. Seriously, though, rain makes me appreciate sunshine even more.

6. While I thoroughly enjoy all four seasons, fall has always been my favorite (possibly because it contains my birthday). Buying several different scarves every October because I actually need to be wearing one every time I leave the house is its own special sort of happy.

7. In conclusion, bless your heart.

Saturday, September 21, 2013

Why I Don't Care That You Think I'm Weird For Liking My Little Pony: Friendships is Magic

Because My Little Pony: Friendships is Magic makes me really fucking happy.

And the way depression does what it does is that, basically, sometimes (even if I'm surrounded by Ponies) it's really fucking hard for me to be happy. So things that make me happy are fucking awesome, and that's a pretty big deal in Ryanville. Sure, I would love to be happy because I like things that make you happy, but then, when you think about it, wouldn't I be trying to make you happy?

Which is a concept that just doesn't even begin to try to make sense, because

you aren't me, so

you don't have to live in my head every year of every month of every week of every day of every hour of every minute of every second of every sunrise of your miserable life,

like I do,

so I'll just keep liking things that make me happy, and you can do whatever the fuck you want.

If "whatever the fuck you want" you want to do is something other than "be a total jerk because Ryan likes something I don't like," then, and only then, can we be friends.

Thursday, September 19, 2013

Cancer Sucks

Once upon a time, nearly a full year before anyone anywhere officially suspected that I might be depressed, I was lucky enough to get obscenely drunk and vomit all over an adorable Japanese girl's couch (or possibly her entire living room; you'd have to ask someone who didn't wake up the next morning and wonder why one lens had popped the fuck out of his glasses).

Shortly thereafter, the adorable Japanese girl quickly turned into "my Asian Friend," whose roommate dabbled in stand-up comedy and encouraged me to give it a try at her next open mic. (Considering that I had done my throwing up at their Halloween party, which had also been one of her first dates with a guy she really liked, which was obviously rather ruined by all of the vomit that just kept happening, she would've had every right to want nothing to do with me - but, as I found out later, the guy had "the fugliest penis" she'd ever seen. Also, we bonded over our love of Buffy.)

I didn't make it to the next one, but I did make it to the one after that, which I still remember rather well: It was the day after Christmas. The only guy I've ever genuinely loved* (who had given me his number some months before all the vomit and failed to mention that, despite the 317 area code, he didn't actually live anywhere near Indiana) was just barely completely unable to attend, as his visit began a few days afterward (and ended a few days before the next one, so he also missed it when I told everyone how much I liked it when he teased me for thinking I'm fat). There was only one homosexual in the entire bar, and it was me. My Asian Friend had made me watch the episode of It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia that explores Sweet Dee's attempts to make it through a stand-up routine without (you guessed it) vomiting a few days before; in spite of this excellent example of why she is a perfectly terrible friend, I basically killed it. Everyone loved me.
*Past tense.

No one loved me more than Mary, whose husband was one of the two bastards who made this particular open mic happen where it did. With the possible exception of my Asian Friend, who was naturally the star of my most hilarious bits, she believed in my jokes more than anyone else on the planet.

Comedy has always meant a lot to me. I thoroughly enjoyed the chance to try it out once a month for almost two full years. It taught me a lot and gave me some purpose when I really needed some sort of something, and I'll always be grateful for that. The last time I gave it a shot was right after I took a little vacation from life to put myself through therapy because, hello, suicide attempt. Lots & lots of people were proud of me for going to therapy, but Mary stands out. She didn't just believe that I could do anything once I went through the process and started to get better, she TOOK IT FOR GRANTED.

I thanked her for that, of course, but I should have written her a poem or something.

On September 19th, 2011, the world became a slightly worse place: cancer snuffed the life right out of Mary. Sorry, guys. I'd be typing faster but I'm kind of tearing up right now. My friend Emily (who you may remember as the roommate from earlier) offered to take me to the hospital to see her shortly before that, but I just couldn't do it. Hospitals have more or less given me panic attacks ever since my dad died when I was seven* - and, I don't know, Mary was always so Alive that I couldn't handle seeing her so close to death. (Transitioning out of therapy & back into your regular life - which, thanks to therapy, is yours more than ever now - is obviously quite a delicate time; it's important to be honest with yourself about what you can handle and what you can't.)
*Seatbelts, y'all. They literally save lives. But they don't work if you're too dumb to wear them.

I've been crashing on friends' couches since July; the few possessions that I didn't get rid of when I got the fuck out of Indiana are either stuffed in a suitcase or quietly encroaching on my gay best friend's living room (he and his roommate understand the Element of Generosity better than they realize).

And yet, I could find the program from Mary's funeral in under a minute.

Depending on your perspective, two years is either a really long time or no time at all. Sometimes it's both at the same time, even though that makes no sense. Personally, I've gone through so many changes in the last two years that, other than the name, "now me" and "then me" have almost nothing in common.

For example: Two years ago, I had (just recently) met my BFF, and he had (probably) already given me the perfectly appropriate nickname of Pepper (which, unless you are him, you are not allowed to call me). I had finally given The Vampire Diaries half a chance because the main character's best friend was a witch; Julie Plec wasn't in charge then, so the show hadn't even begun to live up to all or any of its subtly racist potential. I had started watching My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, but it would be a while before I realized how & why the Elements of Harmony (Honesty + Kindness + Laughter + Loyalty + Generosity = MAGIC) could alter my life for the better. I was still feeling warm fuzzies for the second-worst person I have ever met. It had only just begun to occur to me that photography was something I needed to be doing every day for the rest of my life.

And so forth and so on. My point is, few people could possibly hear about any of these changes and be happier for me than Mary would've been. I'm going to start dabbling in stand-up again sometime soon (until then, my Twitter serves as an excellent example of the hilarity that is my head), and that would be exponentially more enjoyable if I could share it with her.


Sunday, September 15, 2013


1. First of all, just to avoid all & any potentially unpleasant misunderstandings and the hurt feelings they could cause, let's discuss one thing:

    Do not, under ANY circumstances, buy alcohol of any kind and expect me to drink it. For reasons which are still shrouded in some small amount of mystery, I have chosen to live booze-free in 2013. Despite a recurring nightmare about slipping up, I have, in real life, stuck to this goal literally one hundred and fifty-seven thousand fuckin' percent of the time. Since my birthday is a great time to notice that we can just begin to start to see the end of the year and the start of the beginning of next year, I CAN THINK OF NO GOT-DAMN REASON TO GET MY DRANK ON NOW,
    you know?

2. If you live in the magical land of Equestria Washington, you could buy me any blessed amount of something other than alcohol, IF YOU WANT ME TO LOVE YOU FOREVER EVEN IF I DON'T ACTUALLY LIKE YOU THAT MUCH SOMETIMES.

3. Robin McKinley would be one of my favorite authors of all time even if she hadn't written a brilliantly wise wise, weird, wonderful, altogether excellent book about a baker who gets kidnapped by vampires, which gives us one of the most difficult secrets of life, "You are not consumed by the darkness because you are full of light."
    But she did.
    So you can imagine my excitement when I learned that her new book, Shadows, will be available one week & one day before my birthday. (Which is really interesting, since Sunshine - the brilliantly wise book from earlier; note their similarly opposite titles - was released right around my sixteenth birthday. One can only hope she's still writing as my thirty-sixth approaches.)

4. Speaking of Sunshine, I used to own a gorgeous first-edition hardcover that, other than a few memorable mishaps involving my klutzy fingers attempting to drink hot tea & read at the same time, was in perfectly pristine condition.
    And then I mailed it to my very first ambiguously evil ex-boyfriend (who, at the time, hadn't yet dropped the "ex" - in retrospect, this was the 157,000th red flag that I spectacularly failed to notice) and it vanished into the ether, never to be read again.
    Yes, this is precisely, specifically, why Franklin & Dewey invented the library system, but I do intend to replace my lost copy someday. OR, WITH YOUR HELP, "SOMEDAY" COULD BE "MY 26th BIRTHDAY."

5. One more Robin McKinley hardback I "need" to own someday is a delightful re-telling of the tale of Sleeping Beauty called Spindle's End.
    Along with Sunshine, this story proves, perhaps incontrovertibly, that she writes about magic better than any other author who is not Terry Pratchett, Diana Wynne Jones, or Neil Gaiman himself.

6. Yet another book that I think of as "one of mine" even though I do not actually legally own a copy at the moment is Born Confused by Tanuja Desai Hidier. (Unlike the Robin McKinleys above, I'm not picky about hardback vs. paperback, or even American edition vs. British edition.)
    I happen to know, for an actual fact, that it can occasionally be found at the Half-Price Books on 86th Street in Indianapolis, Indiana.
    If you live in Indianapolis, AND WANT ME TO CRY HAPPY LITTLE TEARS OF FAIRY JOY, you could buy a copy for cheap and mail it to me.

7. Speaking of cheap ridiculously cheap books, I've recently decided that one of my more meaningful "before I'm thirty" goals for science is to own at least two copies of every Animorphs book ever (there were fifty-four books in the main series, plus two sets of four-book-long side series).
    So, again, I direct you to Half-Price Books and other stores of its ilk. If you see ANY and think it might be a good idea to buy them for me, the answer is yes! Duplicates are accepted & encouraged; my goal to own AT LEAST two copies of all sixty-four books is a MINIMUM estimate.

8. Finally, it is obviously another goal to own enough copies of Harriet the Spy that everyone I've ever met could borrow one and never give it back.
    (Which would be okay, since I have a perfectly perfect, potentially first-edition, hardback that no one else is allowed to touch.)
    Or, if you want to speed things up a bit, you could buy YOURSELF a copy, then read it (or re-read it) and tell me what it meant to you, what it taught you about life, etc.
    Wait, what? Spend money on a present that's going to someone other than me, FOR MY BIRTHDAY? Why, yes. Expect to see more of that as you continue to read this list.

9 through 20. Obviously, I always need more Ponies (and more and more and more and then a few more after that; PONIES FOREVER, BASICALLY), so there are a fair few options!

    09. Black Tie Fashion Style Pinkie Pie
    10. Black Tie Equestria Girls Pinkie Pie
    11. any other version of Pinkie Pie that you can find wherever you find Ponies; there is no such thing, in Ryanville, as "too much Pinkie Pie"
    12. Fashion Style Rarity
    13. the Equestria Girls two-pack with Twilight Sparkle & Sunset Shimmer
    14. any Spike toy who is standing on two legs like he does in the show (this would include Build-a-Bear Spike)
    15. Fourth Dimension Pinkie Pie plush
    16. Funko Vinyl Pinkie Pie
    17. Funko Vinyl Pinkie Pie variant (WITH SPARKLES)
    18. any Nightmare Moon toy that you can find wherever you find Ponies
    19. any other Funko Vinyl who is not Fluttershy
    20. basically, any Pony out there who is not one of those terrifying-nightmare-monster-looking bloody awful babies

21. If there is someone in your life (other than me, obviously) who might appreciate a Pony, IT WOULD MAKE ME SO HAPPY if y'all would buy one and give it to her (or him or them or whatever) and capture the reaction and share it with me.
    BONUS POINTS if it's Pinkie Pie (everyone everywhere could use some Element of Laughter) or Rarity (the Element of Generosity generously regenerates itself, over and over and over, without ever stopping).

22. If you, personally, have not yet seen Pitch Perfect or The Heat, you could buy yourself a copy of either or both and watch so we can talk about them, and so you will realize how hilarious it really is every time I say "157,000" anything for the rest of my life.
    If you have zero interest in either of these movies, think of something else we'd both appreciate this much, and either get it into my hands or just instruct me to watch it. (For example, you could catch up on The Mindy Project and join me for season two!)

23. Ask Julie Plec, "Hey, Julie, were you born a racist, or did you decide to be racist as you grew up and developed a mind of your own?"
    AND/OR: "Hey, Julie, were you born with a horrible hatred of witches, or did you decide to hate witches as you grew up and developed a mind of your own?"
    AND/OR: "Hey, Julie, what is Kevin up to these days? Other than being too fabulously brilliant to return your calls?"

24. Whether it's through text or e-mail or voicemail or regular mail or Twitter or Facebook or Tumblr or Flickr or this very blog or plain old words that come out of your face and into my face,
    say something funny.
    Because "the perfect gift for me
                  "is a smile as wide as a mile."

25. Check out my Twitter (@wickedbish). Stop reading if you don't start laughing. When you do start laughing, keep reading, and encourage others to do the same.
    Ask yourself, "Have I mastered the art of giving no fucks as well as Ryan clearly has?" If you have, keep it up! If you haven't, take notes & make more of an effort to give less of a fuck.
    Because as long as something makes YOU happy, it is worth doing. Trying to make other people happy is a waste of time. Other people don't have to stay in your head every second of their miserable lives. YOU, ON THE OTHER HAND, DO. So, unless you can make them happy in a way that makes you happy, don't give them more than half a thought in the first place.
    Insert very famous, very relevant Dr. Seuss quote here.
26. Last of all,

    Be honest.
    Be kind.

    Laugh as much as you can.
    Be loyal.
    Be generous.
    Do magic, and let magic happen around you.
    On my birthday, yes, but most especially & most importantly, do this EVERY OTHER DAY OF THE YEAR FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE, PLEASE AND THANK YOU AND YOU'RE WELCOME.

Every & Each Pony I Own

Sunday, September 8, 2013

"There is a spark that never goes out."

You know, in the seven short weeks since I got the physical fuck out of Indiana,

I, Ryan Timothy Bish, have undergone (and am undergoing) a spiritual emotional mental magical physical transformation of mythical proportions. I rather doubt my own ability to write about it with words that will make anything resembling sense to anyone who is not me, but it's worth a hit.

I guess I started to notice that it had started when I found out about getting accepted to art school. The idea had been making itself known in my head at least once an hour for months and months and months, so, when it was confirmed that I was, indeed, going, my very tiny very soft very quiet shrieking internal reaction went something like this:

        Oh, my.
        They really want me? They're really willing to let me find my dream and then keep following it for the rest of my life? They believe that I am an artist?

        Well, this is basically the greatest moment of my life.
        But wait, college is so expensive! And a private college is even more expensive! And I hate paperwork and emails and tax forms! And I hate being a grown-up! And I'm so good at not knowing how to take care of myself!
        And I'm going to be twenty-five years old the day after the day after tomorrow. So I'm obviously ALREADY a complete failure, and "complete failure" is a mark that never gets scrubbed off, no matter how many success showers you take, ever.
        Seriously, how am I going to pay for this? My whole life has basically sucked because we're so poor.

All of which I gave myself permission to feel for approximately seven seconds, although it may have been closer to seventeen.

But then I started to share the news with my friends, who (naturally) received it with much celebration, and consciously made an unconscious decision to take my favorite bit of fairy magic,

        "You are not consumed by the darkness because you are full of light,"

and use it in a new way that was radically different than any other way I had ever used it before: Even if I doubt my ability to actually attend art school, my friends believe I can do it & do it well, so I believe because they believe.

It has now been almost one full calendar year since I received the news. Figuring out how the fuck to pay for this degree is still an ongoing process (hint: quit my crappy job as a coffee slinger, found a new job that pays better and provides a set schedule and allows me to sit the fuck down), but the simple fact that I have not lost interest or given up or, well, died of depression should be somewhat of an enormously significant clue that, yes, this is my dream and, no, I am not going to let anyone stop me from making it happen.


That decision was what we could call the catalyst for this got-the-fuck-out-of-Indiana transformation.

The thing is, this transformation has already had such a profound effect on me that, honestly, all I can foresee is that it will just keep going. As much as Now Me can barely recognize, for example, Bothered to Give Hunter Half a Chance Me, it seems that Nearly-27 Me will barely be able to recognize Now Me. (If that made sense to you, either your reading comprehension skills are off the charts, or you might have ADD. Either way, give yourself a round of applause and then go get a snack.)

But, what if it isn't enough?

What if, for example, on August 14th of next year, I wake up and realize that Sunshine (Robin McKinley's brilliant book that gave us "You are not consumed by the darkness because you are full of light," which was originally released around my 16th birthday) no longer means anything, or makes me happy in any way?

What if Shadows (Robin McKinley's newest book, which will be released around my 26th birthday) totally sucks out loud? What if I look over at all my gorgeous Ponies and decide that they're stupid, so I throw them away, and the Elements of Harmony with them? What if I watch Buffy and can't remember why it ever inspired me? What if I watch The Heat for the twentieth time, and it doesn't make me laugh the fuck out loud LIKE A BITCH anymore?

What if Cara moves to Paris and we can only manage to talk on the phone a few times a year? What if Kiki moves to London and forgets to remember to ask me to visit? What if, as I approach my twenty-seventh birthday, I am still "still" single?

What if I do make a legitimate effort to get my shots into shows, and no one buys them?

What if I do make a legitimate effort to get back into stand-up, and no one likes my jokes as much as I like my jokes?

What if, in short, I no longer have any reason to try to make myself (not to mention: everyone else) laugh every hour of every day of the rest of my life?

Well, then.

Even if all (or even just one) of these highly unlikely possibilities do come to pass,

if anyone bothers to ask me if I'm happy with my life, I will still be able to say,

"You know, I must be doing something right for someone as motivated & driven & talented & wonderful & inspired & inspiring as Tony to call me his best friend."

Saturday, September 7, 2013

Laughter Shine Power!

If you like this, please consider checking out http://www.flickr.com/photos/100733225@N04/ and/or twitter.com/wickedbish

So Here's Why Weed Is So Awesome

If you've ever read The Sandman, Neil Gaiman's magnum opus (and if you haven't, you really should), I feel pretty much exactly like Delirium or maybe even Delight, because I know too much right now.

Consider the following:

"It was ME that thought of it. I thought of it in my HEAD. I thought, I MISSED you, and I thought, if we went to find you, then we'd FIND you, and that would make everything BETTER for ever . . .

So I went and LOOKED for you and first of all Desire was at this party and she said she wouldn't help and then Despair showed me her RATS and she had a SAD man in a mirror but she wouldn't come WITH me and I went to see Dream but FIRST I went home and CRIED a little bit.

So I went to see Dream and I thought HE'D say NO but he gave me little chocolate lovers and he said OKAY. And we saw this travelling man and I made little FROGS and this lady wanted my NAME, and I went on a AIRPLANE.

I LIKE airplanes. I like ANYwhere that isn't a proper place. I LIKE in-betweens.

There was a lady named Ruby only SHE got burned all up but that was LATER. And there was a lawyer too but HE got all burned up too, I mean he got SQUASHED.

And the Etain lady ran away because her HOUSE went boom and the Alder man wasn't in the world any more and I found Tiffany and she was with the DANCING lady.

And then I did DRIVING and I was really GOOD.
Then we went to the dancing lady and Dream talked to her and I made this man give Tiffany ALL his dollars, then we went away.

Then Dream said he wouldn't go WITH me any more and I went HOME and CRIED a little bit, but THEN he said he was sorry and really he WOULD come with me again, because . . .

I don't remember. SOMETHING. And that he'd be NICE to me.

THEN we went to NOWHERE and then we went to the FAIR and then we went to Destiny's GUARDING. And then Dream went all SPOGGLY and I had to put me all . . .
I . . .

I HAD to . . .
I had to be . . .

And THEN we went over there and I ate some cherries and the stones said I was going to be a kangaROO when I grow up and then we came HERE.

So it was ME.
That's all."

Now compare that with some of the stuff I'm saying on Twitter (@wickedbish) tonight.

Thursday, September 5, 2013

Let's Play A Fun Little Game, Just To Say We Did It

I, Ryan Timothy Bish, being of sound mind & solid badassery, do hereby challenge myself to name fifty (50)* female Asian superheroes who have half a chance of being familiar to American audiences who are not otaku; if at all possible, I should like to see this done without any Internet searching, in other words, "off the top of my head."


  1. Sailor Moon (sadly, there is something of an argument about whether or not most or all anime characters are "supposed to be" Caucasian anyway)
  2. Sailor Mercury
  3. Sailor Mars
  4. Sailor Jupiter
  5. Sailor Venus
  6. Sailor Pluto
  7. Sailor Uranus
  8. Sailor Neptune
  9. Sailor Saturn
  10. Sailor Chibi Moon
  11. Jubilee
  12. Psylocke (and an argument could be made that she "doesn't count" since she was originally white; her twin brother is the very blond Captain Britain)
  13. Dani Moonstar
  14. Dust
  15. Hisako Ichiki (you would think Joss Whedon, of all people, could be counted on to make more of an effort to get more people talking about this; his fondness for badass Asian females is not exactly a secret, but approximately 85% of his human characters are ALL WHITE)
  16. Cassandra Cain (I am allergic to the New 52. Does she even exist anymore?)
  17. Wasp (the Ultimate version of the character, who was killed after everyone stopped caring about the Ultimate Universe)
  18.  Nico Minoru (true story: in Brian K. Vaughan's original pitch, he was very specific about his intention for the group to have four girls and two boys to "buck tradition")
  19. Yukio (is "secret lesbian lover of Storm" enough to qualify as a superhero?)
  20. Dr. Alison Mann (you could easily argue that she's not exactly a superhero, but the question that I would ask you to ask yourself is something like this one: Did she, or did she not, save the human race from utter extinction?)
  21. Katara
  22. Toph Beifong
  23. Princess Yue 
  24. Avatar Korra, the most powerful person ~on the planet~ (thank you, Mike; thank you, Bryan; thank you, Nickelodeon!)
  25. Asami
  26. Lin Beifong 
  27. what the hell was Sage's ethnicity supposed to be
  28. Hay Lin (does anybody else wish W.I.T.C.H. had been more successful, or is it just me?)
  29. Karma
  30. Trini Kwan (who, let's be honest, happened to be the Yellow Ranger because Thuy Trang was Vietnamese, much like Walter Jones was the Black Ranger because, well, obvious reasons; for shame, Saban, shame on you, shame on your face)
  31. Cassie Chan
  32. Alyssa Enrilé
  33. Madison Rocca
  34. Vida Rocca
  35. Mia Watanabe
  36. Emma Goodall
  37. Grace Choi
  38. Nancy Lu (oh my goodness, oh my goodness - I completely forgot about her, I haven't re-read Spider-Girl in ages & ages)
  39. Jolt
  40. Katana (personally, I don't know anything about her other than a) her name and b) her status as a supporting character in the latest new Batman animated series - but seriously, her name sounds like something of a "Trini Kwan" situation, don'tcha think?)
  41. Juniper Lee (why did I never watch this show?)
  42. Thunder
  43. Lightning
  44. Alex Munday
  45. Satsu the Vampire Slayer
  46. . . .
YOU GUYS. I CAN'T DO IT. THIS IS SO FRUSTRATING. The really sad thing is, I had to look away from my own "no Internet searches" suggestion rather a long while ago.

One of my best friends, Sho Tanahara (who, as you may be able to infer from her last name, hails from a small town just outside of Tokyo) asked me recently why I care so much about finding stories that feature strong female characters and/or people of color.

At the time, I told her I didn't know what to tell her, as I was simply "wired that way."

What I should've done was paraphrase Joss** and say,

"Because people are still asking why I care so much. I intend to keep caring until people quit asking. This should not be such a big deal in the Year of Our Lord two thousand and fucking thirteen, but it absolutely still is, and I just can't stand it."

*That might sound like kind of a lot, but take half a second to remind yourself just how easy it would be to name more than twice as many superheroes who are white males (for example, every title character from every entry in the Marvel Cinematic Universe who is not Black Widow, just for starters).

**When in doubt, paraphrase Joss Whedon. It's as uncomplicated as it is simple.

Tuesday, September 3, 2013

The Internet: Letting Dumb People Feel Unafraid To Be Themselves Since Before Hipsters Were Cool

So I gave this guy my number and said he should text me sometime because I was bored; he wasn't even that hot and his reply was this:

       I don't want you hacking into my computer and intercepting my mail and I don't think the operators of the site would really like that either. So please delete all my emails and don't contact me again or interfere with my transmissions. 

All I'm saying is, if you're "still" single and you take yourself this seriously, well, I'm sorry 'bout your face, but you're probably "still" single b-e-c-a-u-s-e you take yourself this seriously.

P.S. The Black Girl Stare that I am casting in your general direction is so severe that it really ought to fill you with terror.
     Then again, a phone number legitimately does fill you with terror, so maybe your soul interprets a Black Girl Stare as a sign that I'm super into you. In which case, your soul is fucking mistaken.

Monday, September 2, 2013

5 Times It Might Be Actually Acceptable To Watch The Vampire Diaries, Thursdays On The CW

Ask yourself the following questions:

    1. Are you racist?
        Regardless of your own race, do you dislike black people (light-skinned or otherwise) and think they ought to be killed every week, most preferably in horribly gruesome, gruesomely horrible ways? And when they are, do you want to watch?
        If a person of color has way more potential than any of their spectacularly stupid friends, do you think they should a) move the fuck on and find some new friends who consistently act like decent human beings or b) kill themselves?

    2. Do you hate witches?
        Have you ever wondered why more people in your life don't talk about the fact that, obviously, the Burning Times were the best times in the history of, well, human history? When you see a woman who isn't defined by her relationships with men, do you regard her as a socio-biological freak? Do you wish she'd take her problems elsewhere as soon as she drops everything to help you with yours? Do you assume she isn't as happy as you are because you're in a relationship with a mysterious dark sexy tough forbidden murderer (who cares if he's horrible on the inside, his outside is physically flawless) and she's SO ALONE?
        Do you really, truly, honestly believe that having talent no one else has is wrong, immoral, or unnatural?
    3. Do  you secretly love it when heroic humans die and never come back? Do you secretly love it when vile villains never ever die and always come back just when you thought the black people in the background might make it out alive?
        Do you wonder why you have to keep this love so secret? Do you resent your friends for not feeling the same way?

    4. Have you ever been watching some sort of show about good vs. evil and seriously started to think that the villain should get his own show?
        Do you think this show would be worth watching because it sounds "fun" to explore "the nature of evil"?

    5. In your opinion, are love triangles the most entertaining form of entertainment in the history of fiction?

If you answered "yes" or "b" to any one* of these questions, MAYBE YOU SHOULD JUST WATCH THE VAMPIRE DIARIES FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE. Boom.

*If you answered "yes" or "b" to all of these questions, why do you hate yourself and why do you hate everyone else and what the fuck are you doing reading my blog, JULIE PLEC?

13 TV Shows That Become Even More Fun When You Are High Enough For Reading Rainbow

1    Buffy the Vampire Slayer
        In the very last episode, Buffy shrugged off a mortal wound and got up and told the First Evil, "I want . . . you . . . to get out of my face."
        Which was before Xander saved the world with his mouth and the words that came out of them.
        Which was before the MUSICAL EPISODE.
        Which was before Giles killed a hell-god with his bare hand - that's not a typo, he just only needs one hand to kill a hell-god because, well, he's Giles - and didn't even tell anyone about it because Buffy had just sacrificed herself to save her sister and, oh, the universe.
        Which was before Buffy & Xander & Willow & Giles told Adam, "WE CAN. WE ARE FOREVER."
        Which was before the second half of the two-part episode about Faith pulling a Freaky Friday with Buffy. (This was the very first episode I ever saw, and it was VERY CONFUSIFYING.)
        Which was before Buffy explained that her life happens to, on occasion, suck beyond the telling of it.
        Which was before Willow got hit on the head with a library bookshelf AND THEN showed the very first signs of her innate magical potential to become the most powerful witch anyone anywhere had ever dreamed of, just THINK ABOUT THAT for one second.
        Which was before Buffy didn't let a little thing like drowning to death stop her from preventing her first apocalypse.
        Which was before Buffy calmly explained that "You know, stalking's not a big turn-on for girls," EDWARD.*

2    Gilmore Girls
        They never stop eating, they never stop talking, and they always say stuff like this:

            "Maybe if we concentrate, our combined psychic powers will somehow move it closer."
            "I don't . . . think . . . it's working."
            "It's my fault, I'm not focusing."

        And they make enough literary references for an English major to get pregnant, unless it's a boy English major, because we all know boys don't get pregnant even when they're English majors.

3    Avatar: The Last Airbender
        "I AM THE GREATEST EARTHBENDER IN THE WORLD! AND DON'T YOU TWO DUNDERHEADS EVER FORGET IT." Toph Beifong (is it Beifong or Bei Fong? Google bit me earlier) is a girl who really has the right attitude about life. We should all aspire to be more like her.
        Also, meat & sarcasm.

4    The Legend of Korra
        WELL, DUH.
        As if the original series wasn't one of my top three favorite TV shows of all time (which, for obvious reasons, it is), this one gives us a story where the Avatar, the most powerful person on the planet,
        is a girl.
        'Cause Mike & Bryan just can't be bothered to give any fucks.

5    My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
        Honesty + Kindness + Laughter + Loyalty + Generosity = MAGIC

        What else can you even say?
            baked bads   
            chimicherry or cherrychanga
            the. worst. POSSIBLE. thing
            I'd like to be a tree
            What are you, a dictionary?
            I bet you can't make a face like this
            Spike's head weighs so much more than the rest of his body that he almost falls over backward whenever he runs, for example, at the beginning of every episode in the theme song
            Applejack Applejack Applejack

        Need I go the fuck on?

6-8    The Mindy Project, Parks & Rec, and 30 Rock
        The comedy in these shows is so all-over-the-place that following exactly what's going on to make you laugh so hard is pretty much, well, not exactly an endurance sport, but you will be on the edge of your seat, and you might laugh until you begin to start to develop abs (fingers crossed forever).
        So, if you have quality weed, ONE season of ANY of these THREE shows could easily provide nigh-unlimited entertainment for at least a month.
        Trust me, I speak from personal experience.

9    Will & Grace
        Karen would approve.

10    Samurai Pizza Cats
        If you've ever heard anything about this show, you know, deep in the deepest depths of your very soul, you know I'm right.
        If you've never heard anything about this show, the fact that "Samurai Pizza Cats" is literally its actual name ought to give you some sort of hint that it just might pair well with marijuana.

11    Criminal Minds
        You can forget about how hot Shemar Moore is and then remind yourself, and then forget again, and then remind yourself that you reminded yourself to remember this time, before ultimately coming to the conclusion that it's impossible to gaze upon the perfection that is Mr. Moore without always being incredulous that any one such physically flawless human being is allowed to survive.
        All I'm saying is, during the course of one episode, you could go through the entire revelation process that I've just described so many times that, well, "the limit does not exist."

        Furthermore, you can easily get high enough to think you've solved the case before Reid (because you don't realize that you've actually seen the episode before, back when you were sober and the show wasn't as good as it could be).

12    Mighty Morphin Power Rangers

        Do I even fucking need to FUCKING explain this one?
        I don't, but I will: When you watch it without commercials, one episode of this show lasts for twenty minutes. Maybe nineteen, maybe twenty-five. Any way you slice it, that is not an awful lot of time.
        And yet. When you watch it without being tied down to worry (and other no-fun things sobriety can cause humans to feel), each episode, and I can prove this with science if y'all are willing to hang out sometime, is approximately two hours long, sometimes two and a half.
        There WILL come a time when you ask yourself, "I know the heroes don't die in this franchise until you get to Lost Galaxy, but seriously, how are they going to get out of this one?"
        When they do, indeed, get out of this one, you'll be so damn happy.

13    My Drunk Kitchen
        Technically not a TV show, but kindly shut your face and bite the fuck out of me.
        A fun thing to do (this is fun even when you're sober, believe it or not) is grab a friend who's never heard of it, make them sit down, refuse to explain it to them any further than "she drinks and cooks, in that order," insist that they watch it, refuse to hear that they don't feel like an Internet video right now,
                and then just sit back and listen to how hard they laugh. You laughed that hard, once. With weed in your life, you WILL laugh that hard again, possibly as soon as the end of this sentence.

*When I sat down and started writing today, I thought the Buffy reasons would end with, "Welp, you should start to see where I'm going with this." Obviously, a dig against Twilight is always a better way to end a discussion about why Buffy is so gosh-damn awesome.
P.S. Go to YouTube and search for "Buffy vs. Edward."

Sunday, September 1, 2013

30 Times I Was So Happy I Could Cry

1. "When someone dies of depression, the cause of death is listed as suicide."
    Okay, my first example is actually bittersweet. On the one hand, there was that time (April 24th, 2011) when I did not die of depression, and that's pretty sweet (please note: this list is called "30 Times I Was So Happy I Could Cry," and I couldn't cry if I had died; dead people can't cry or smile or do anything else because, you know, they're dead). On the different hand, there was that other time (July 2013) when I found out that the friend who originally shared this wisdom with me had died of depression. We had been permanently out of touch for a few months before that, but she was still far too awesome to die so young, and part of me is still mad at her for it.
    A bigger part of me is just thankful that I'm stronger than her.

2. A few nights ago, I had a dream about being harassed by the worst person I've ever met. While it was happening, this was a very bad dream; as soon as I woke up, I looked back and realized that it was actually one of the best dreams I've ever had, because it was just a dream. In real life, he is thousands of miles away and he can never hurt me ever again.

3. A few nights ago, I had a dream about bumping into the second-worst person I've ever met. While it was happening, this was a very good dream; as soon as I woke up, I looked back and realized that it was actually one of the worst dreams I've ever had, because it was just a dream. In real life, he is thousands of miles away and I don't actually know for a fact that he's quite as miserable as his life choices would seem to indicate.

4. Once upon a time, on my 21st birthday, I marched up to an evil idiot and told him, "You're as ugly on the outside as you are on the inside." He yelled something angry as I marched away, which is a pretty clear sign that he cried himself to sleep that night.
    Almost five years later, I still don't even kind of regret this behavior. Don't fucking mess with my sister.

5. In December of 2008, I met my best friend Adam for the very first time.
    Approximately eight seconds after meeting Adam for the very first time, I knew he was gay.
    But he never mentioned it, and I know better than anyone that coming out is something you have to do at your own pace, so I never pushed the issue.
    In March of 2011, he finally admitted that he was "like me."
    That day, we saw Sucker Punch, in which several characters say the line, "You already have all the weapons you need - now, fight." Adam won his own fight in his own way, and I love him for it.

6. As anyone who knows anything about me ought to be able to tell you, my favorite book of all time is Harriet the Spy, which was written by Louise Fitzhugh.
    True story about Louise Fitzhugh: I had been re-reading the book at least once a year for ten years before I found out that she was kind of secretly well-known for being a big ol' lesbian.
    Another true story about Louise Fitzhugh: A few days ago, I noticed for the first time that she and I were both born in October (so was Harriet).

7. "You are not consumed by the darkness because you are full of light." - Robin McKinley, Sunshine
    I haven't actually owned this book in a, you know, legal sense for several years because I loaned it to Jason and he lost it in the mail (it was a first-edition hardcover, by the way, in excellent condition).
    I do intend to replace it someday, but at the same time, it's nice to have a concrete reminder that stupid boys will always be stupid, and they will ruin everything if given half a chance. I must never give any stupid boy half a chance ever again. I must learn to listen to my instincts.
    My instincts, believe it or not, are actually pretty good. I know this for a fact because a wise old woman told me that I am not consumed by the darkness because I am full of light.

8. Speaking of "You are not consumed by the darkness because you are full of light," there was that time in the Prisoner of Azkaban movie when Harry saved himself & his friends by banishing the fuck out of all the dementors.
    If dementors aren't an obvious metaphor for depression, I don't know what is. Well done, J. K. Rowling. Well done.

9. On Sunday, March 21st, 1999, our littlest sister was born. Cara and I, who were eight and eleven at the time, can still tell you everything about that night.

10. Go back and re-read #4. I'll wait here.
    I have no memory of this, but the sister in question assures me that I succintly summarized his status as an evil idiot months before he showed his true colors (which must have been awkward for her at the time, as we were all living together then, but you know what they say about hindsight).
    Speaking of my instincts.

11. On October 31st, 2009, I drank way too much and threw up all over Sho Tanahara's living room (I also repeatedly asked her roommate, who was in a relationship with someone who made him very happy, if he wanted to make out with me; I don't remember this at all, but I have no difficulty believing that it happened). We didn't really know each other very well at the time, but after that she quickly became, well, my Asian Friend.
    The really shocking thing is that I'm still pretty good friends with her roommate Emily, who I had never met before that night.

    HISTORIAN'S NOTE: This was more than a year before I realized that, duh, I have depression. In retrospect, well, what can you say?

12. Animorphs #54, The Beginning (which is really the end, because is there ever actually such a thing as "the end" of a story?). Did Rachel have to die? Was there no other way to save the day? Well, sure, they probably still could have won the war . . . but if she hadn't sacrificed herself, countless other people would have been killed. For a warrior like Rachel, there was never any question. She summed it up nicely in book seven:

    "My closest friends think I'm fearless. They're wrong about that. People without fear are just insane. I have plenty of fear in my life. Some days I feel afraid from the moment I wake up in the morning till my last nightmare at night.
    "But the thing about fear is you can't be afraid of it. I know that sounds confusing. I guess what I mean is, be afraid if you have to, right? Fear is like this vicious little worm that lives inside you and eats you alive. You have to fight it. You have to know it's there. You have to accept that you'll never get rid of it, but fight it just the same. Brave isn't about not being afraid. It's about being scared to death and still not giving in."

13. Also from Animorphs, Marco (who, by the way, spends the first four books wanting nothing to do with their fight) gives us this gem in book five:

    "I have a saying for you. I got it from a fortune cookie. 'Fall down seven times, get up eight.' You know what that means? That means you don't ever just lie there. You always get up. You always come back for more. You never surrender. Maybe you die, but you never surrender."

14. The time I met Tony (which I actually don't remember all that well, since we didn't know it was such a big deal until after it happened). Other than "he's my BFF," I don't know how to describe our relationship, except: Our friendship makes sense because it doesn't make sense. We are perfect for each other because we're both so flawed, and that makes us powerful.

15. When I was sixteen, Cara and I saw Relient K (there will be a bit more about them as this list draws to a close) at Universal Studios. There were a bunch of other people there, too, of course - our entire church group, dozens of other church groups, tons of people who just happened to be visiting the park on the same day as several dozen church groups, park employees, at least half a dozen other bands - but, to my way of remembering, it was just me and Cara and Relient K.

16. Speaking of my little sister, I usually go through 30 Times I'm So Happy I Could Cry every single time I talk to her. I'm "lucky" (note my use of sarcastic quote marks; they are sarcastic because, in fact, luck has nothing to do with it) enough to have several truly wonderful people in my life, but none of them will ever know me quite as well as my sister. If I had to pick one person, out of all the people on the planet, who is my very favorite person on the planet, it would be her.

17. Speaking of truly wonderful people in my life:

    "The spark ignited inside me when I realized that you all are my friends."

    Honesty + Kindness + Laughter + Loyalty + Generosity = Magic.

    I beat depression (have beaten, am beating, do beat, will beat) because all of you have shown me, in word or in deed, that I am greater than the sum of my parts. Sometimes you don't even realize it, but I do.

18. Speaking of beating depression, I was so happy that I literally cried when I finally, finally, finally actually physically got the fuck out of Indiana. (Thank you, Kiki; you exemplify all six Elements of Harmony, but you especially embody Generosity so shockingly well that my jaw hurts from dropping over and over and over.) Putting my life together in Seattle is a process that's neither swift nor snappy, but you know what?
    I had no idea it was possible for me to be this happy.

19. Once upon a time, in the mythical land of Hollywood, a reporter asked Joss Whedon, "Why do you write these strong female characters?"
    And Joss answered, "Because you keep asking that question."

20. I don't remember who pointed this out to me for the first time, but The Little Mermaid - which would be my favorite Disney movie ever if Beauty and the Beast and The Lion King and Aladdin and Mulan and The Parent Trap and The Princess Diaries and Lilo & Stitch were all erased from existence, in some sort of horrible time travel mistake - is kind of sort of almost a perfect metaphor for growing up trans.

21. Well. I mean. I suppose I felt a little bit happy when I got the call:

    "Ryan, I have bad news and I have good news; the bad news is that you can't start right away, but the good news is that you've been accepted to the Art Institute of Seattle."


    They say that "a problem shared is half the problem" and "a joy shared is twice the joy" - in this case, the second half of that saying was most definitely, definitively proven to be absolute truth, since a) I texted Kiki to say that I GOT IN I GOT IN I GOT IN I GOT IN, so she called me and insisted that we go to English Ivy's for some celebratory drinks, and b) between that text and those drinks, I called Adam and Ben & Marci to tell them that, get ready, the day we had all been waiting for was finally coming: I was officially getting the fuck out of Indiana and coming to Seattle . . .

22. . . . which reminded me of a Terry Pratchett quote: "Joy is to fun what the deep sea is to a puddle It's a feeling inside that can hardly be contained."

23. Obviously, all six Elements of Harmony work together ("Harmony" - it's literally right there in the name), but for me, personally, Laughter has always been clearly the most powerful, since it banishes fear (and makes it look easy) before anypony figures out how the Elements do what they do.
    Even if you ignore all the pretty horses and the ~magic~ and everything else, "laughter is stronger than fear" is such an unbelievably awesome thing to put in the very first episode of a kids' show (especially one inspired by a toyline from the eighties); while it's impossible to choose a favorite Pony, Pinkie Pie, who holds the Element of Laughter, will always be the most important to me.
    So I was pretty gosh-damn happy when my ginger friend & I went to Toys R Us and each bought the other a plush version of her. I've acquired many other Pinkie Pies since then (thank you, Kristine; thank you, Adam), but the plush is my favorite Pony in my entire collection, because my ginger friend (who, by the way, has been a human Pinkie Pie since before Equestria Girls was anything other than a Katy Perry parody) would not have started watching the show if I hadn't been gushing about it so much when I was in therapy - refer back to the beginning of this list - where I learned a lot about how to take my fears just seriously enough, which made it a lot easier to laugh at them until they get tired of trying to scare me.

24. I want to make it clear that I do not really truly ~believe~ in ghosts (or, you know, anything else).
    But my friend Vanessa has been talking to them for longer than I've been alive. Shortly after reading "Epiphany," which I wrote when I was in therapy (writing it took longer than it could have because I kept crying at how awesome I am), she had a dream about my dad, who wanted her to tell me that he was proud of me.
    That wasn't a time I "could" cry, that was a time I "did" cry.

25. In the very last episode of the series that was named for her, Buffy the Vampire Slayer stood in front of a bunch of terrified, powerless girls and gave a speech:

    "So here's the part where you make a choice: What if you could have that power . . . now? In every generation, one Slayer is born. Because a bunch of men who died thousands of years ago made up that rule. They were powerful men. This woman is more powerful than all of them combined. So, I say we change the rule. I say ~my~ power . . . should be ~our~ power. Tomorrow, Willow will use the essence of the Scythe to change our destiny. From now on, every girl in the world who might be a Slayer . . . will be a slayer. Every girl who ~could~ have the power, ~will~ have the power; can stand up, will stand up. Slayers, every one of us. Make your choice. Are you ready to be strong?"

    A few scenes later, she led those girls in a fight against the worst evil she had ever faced (which is saying something; she  once smashed in a god's face with a hammer) in an epic battle, during which she told that evil,

    "I want . . . you . . . to get out of my face."

    No matter how many times I watch the last episode, both of these scenes will always give me chills.

26. Speaking of, I gave myself chills when I wrote this:

    "There's darkness inside you, little boy."
    "I define darkness, it does not define me. Also, what the HELL do you know about my mind?"

27. I don't remember what I was thinking when I decided that I should buy a "real" camera, but I do remember, less than a month after making said purchase, the very first time anyone ever pointed out that a) I kind of have a knack and b) some of my shots would look ~even better~ with a little editing.
    (Thank you, Leo.)

28. "When I was hired, working for this company made me feel really good about myself. But for the last year and some months, it has only made me feel suicidal. The thing is, I like my life a lot more than my job."
    That's not verbatim, but the note I wrote to give two weeks' notice at Starbucks was completely fucking epic. When I finally clocked out after my last shift, all I could think was

29. When I was three years old, my mom sat me down to watch The Wizard of Oz for the first time.
    The Wicked Witch of the West is widely regarded as one of the most horribly purely evil characters in the history of film; the Queen from Snow White gave me nightmares, and I had to leave the room during Ursula's death scene, but the Wicked Witch had something, some sort of stage screen presence, that made me love her right away. Why shouldn't she have her dead sister's shoes? Why did Glinda send Dorothy to the Wizard so he could order her to kill the Witch? Why does no one notice that Glinda is clearly the real villain?
    Obviously, I couldn't articulate these observations at the time, but the Wicked Witch of the West struck a chord with me right the fuck away, and I have been obsessed with witches ever since.
    Which is wonderfully wickedly ironic (fairies love irony), because my mom. Well. She's as stubborn as her name implies. And I love her for it even though her opinion is wrong.

30. Once upon a time in 2004, in the magical land of LiveJournal, I met Kiki.
    We instantly bonded when she learned of my love for Relient K.
    She saw something in me that I couldn't see until recently; something real, and something powerful. I already have two younger sisters, so I never wanted an older one as well. But wanting and needing are two wildly different things, aren't they?
    A great majority of the moments on this list never would have had a chance to happen if I hadn't met her when I did, because I would've died of depression before anyone realized it was a thing that made me struggle.
    Today is Kiki's 30th birthday, and I am so very very happy about that. She's already a badass human being, but her thirties are going to change her, and everyone she knows, in ways none of us can hope to imagine just yet.
    Happy birthday, brown-eyed girl.    
    I love you more than words can say.

Adulthood Rocks My Socks, Let Me Tell You Why

photo found on Google Images, even though Google hates me today

Blueberry. Cheesecake. Ice cream.

I could have absolutely eaten this for breakfast today, and no one would have told me otherwise, which might have happened if I hadn't forgotten that such a thing exists or that it's currently just chilling, or rather, freezing, in the freezer right over there.

OkStupid is Getting Entirely the Fuck Out of Control

"OkStupid," for those of you who don't know (and how could you know? I haven't even told you yet) (but you know what, people who think they're smarter than me still say this sort of thing all the time), is what I've decided to call OkCupid whenever it annoys me, WHICH IT IS WONT TO DO this foolishness they keep trying to present as fun facts.

So I logged in earlier this morning (this was before scrambling the fuck out of some eggs, which was a good time from start to finish, obviously) and found a message from some dude* I've never noticed before:

I don't even have a profile on here so I'm not really expecting much back from this. That said I am a way in the closet Bi dude who hooked up with an old friend a couple times and really wants to find a friend with benefits. I'm a 26 year old oil painter/DJ I'm a fit vegetarian. I have a straight profile on here I could direct you to.

Well, alright** then! Let's just break this down, shall we?

I suppose it'll have to be a sentence-by-sentence sort of analysis.***

   I don't even have a profile on here so I'm not really expecting much back from this.

Boy vey ("boy" + "oy vey" = "boy vey") (did I need to explain that one, or does it just sort of present itself and then make sense?), I already love this!

First off, although your profile did turn out to be empty, I think maybe what you were really trying to tell me was, "I don't even have a picture on here," which is obviously what Liz Lemon (and, because of Liz Lemon, Ryan Bish) would call a DEAL BREAKER (alternate spelling: DEAL-BREAKER).

And, as we can infer from the second half of this sentence, you realize that it's a deal breaker. You know, okay? You fucking know, and you fucking know I fucking know you know I- sorry, I always get confused when other people make these jokes; thought I might try it for myself, and what do you know, I really should avoid concepts that confuse me UNLESS they sound like they'd be fun to learn. You know, the fact that I got distracted in the middle of my own pseudo-rant about why We Are Never Ever Ever Ever Gonna Get Together is not exactly what you might interpret as a great sign.

But do you let the fact that you know your deal breaker is a deal breaker, you know, stop you? Which would be the wisest course of action at this point - look how I said "which would be," not "which would have been," as if you hadn't already made the choice you made - because, come ON, if I wanted to chat with "Bi" (more about that in a minute, or more like thirty) guys without knowing what their faces look like, I would either go back to before the Internet was a thing (oh, Internet, we love you) and respond to personal ads in the back of m4m skin mags or hang out at gloryholes, anywhere, anytime, ever.

Anyway. Let's move on.

   That said I am a way in the closet Bi dude who hooked up with an old friend a couple times and really wants to find a friend with benefits.

Cool kids use commas and hyphens whenever AND WHEREVER the sentence calls for commas and hyphens. Also; semicolons; but I don't wanna blow your mind too terribly truly awfully much.

The only things that should be kept in the closet are

a) clothes,

b) shoes,

c) belts,

d) ties,

e) hangers for a through d,

f) maybe a hamper, if your closet is gigantic,

g) heavy boxes full of back issues of comic books you can't bear to throw away even though you don't read them much anymore,

h) another heavy box full of your entire collection of Animorphs, for which I must confess a healthy dose of jealousy,

i) extra Ponies,

j) dead bodies, and

k) anything else in your house that is not you.

I mean, I know better than anyone that coming out is tricky and everyone who does it must do it at their own pace in their own time in their own way, and I understand that some people have perfectly valid reasons for not wanting to come out any time soon or ever, but

WHY WOULD I EVER WANT TO BECOME THE OLD FRIEND YOU HOOKED UP WITH A FEW TIMES while keeping me a total secret no matter how much you wanted it and/or needed it once I got naked?

No, I'm serious.

I'm pretty fucking awesome, you know, so why would I want to put myself through that, ever?

Oh, right, because you're just so hot.

You know a good way to prove that you're hot (which is also a good way to find friends, with or without benefits)?


In conclusion, duh (I would normally say, "In conclusion, bless your heart," but I did not grow up in the South feeling afraid to be who I have known I was since I had a crush on Prince Philip from Sleeping Beauty so I could eventually get the fuck out of the South and waste their our precious colloquialisms on the likes of you).

OH. AND ALSO. Unless it's the first word of the sentence, "Bi" does not need to be capitalized. Ever. Which you would know if you had made it through third grade without failing to retain anything.

YEAH, I SAID IT. I may have made it through third grade without failing to retain any math, but you know what I don't try to do when I'm on the Internet?

Go to math websites and expect them to take me seriously when I talk about math.

So I guess what I'm saying is, one of us is a champion and one of us is a wannabe.

I'll let you figure out who's who. If you get confusified (it happens to the best of us, of which you are not one), take a minute and observe the serious Black Girl Stare I'm throwing in your general direction right now.

   I'm a 26 year old oil painter/DJ I'm a fit vegetarian.

Okay, if we can pretend for one second that your lack of a picture was not a deal-breaker (which we can't, because it fucking was), you really should have opened with this! Oil painter/DJ? Do you do fling colors at the canvas like the canvas is your bitch when you're not dropping beats? Do you paint people's portraits (YAY FOR ALLITERATION) while they make their song requests, in which case you would need to have superspeed, since, duh, how long does it take you say, "HEY MISTER DEEJAY WILL YOU PLEASE PLAY PAPARAZZI"?

So many questions!

But, for reasons best kept to yourself (as if you had any) (for anything, ever), you decided to save this until after I had judged you and found you lacking for reasons (I keep using that word) which I explained in explicit detail as they were happening.

If all you wanna do is get your brains fucked out, why do I need to know that you're a vegetarian? Am I supposed to bring you a meatless lasagna when I come over to fuck your brains out? Am I supposed to carry that fucking heavy pasta tray dish thing with me when I circle the block a few times because your girlfriend hasn't left yet? Most importantly, why on Earth (or any of the other planets, you know, the ones named after Usagi and all her little friends) would I ever even entertain the thought of wasting a meatless lasagna on a self-hating self-hater such as yourself? MEATLESS LASAGNA IS AWESOME AND BRINGS JOY TO THE WORLD, SPECIFICALLY THE PART OF THE WORLD THAT IS OCCUPIED BY MY MOUTH WHEN THERE IS MEATLESS LASAGNA IN MY MOUTH OR NEARBY, so the fact that you're a vegetarian is what we could call a useless fact.

But we won't do that either, because I don't want to waste an Animaniacs reference on you either, not even unintentionally.

   I have a straight profile on here I could direct you to.

Unless they're on ~really~ ~good~ gay-for-pay sites, straight guys (usually) don't even kind of interest me. And even then, how much time to I have to be wasting on pornography? NOT ENOUGH. (Do I mean that as in, "pornography isn't important enough to waste any time for" or "I don't have enough free time to waste on pornography"? It could really be taken either damn way, couldn't it? Yes, yes it sure could.)

Cool kids don't end sentences with prepositions. Or rather, they we try to avoid it. Sure, it's difficult sometimes (I hinted about thinking about doing it at least once in the previous paragraph; you'll only ask me for a hint IF YOU'RE WEAK), but my point is that we're heroes (what's cooler than a hero? NOTHING, that's what, and most of my favorite heroes start being heroes when they're kids) because we try.

You, on the other hand, don't even know that you failed.

Well, there you have it. I'm not entirely sure where most of that came from, and I didn't expect it to be so long (dirty), but I'm pretty happy with it (dirtier).

Now that it's done, I honestly can't decide if I should

a) actually send it to him,

b) post it to craigslist in a random city,

c) hold on to it until I have generated enough similar essay-article-blog-list-things to assemble a book called How To Do Anything You Want To Do Unless What You Want To Do Is Impress The Fuck Out Of Me,

d) publicly display it on my OkStupid profile (what's he gonna do, get all butthurt about how everyone knows no one with a dick knows what he looks like? UNLIKELY) (but if that did happen, the "Hide" button is there because sometimes you need to actually click it),


e) do all of the above


f) braiding the fuck out of Pinkie Pie's mane.

Don't worry, I'll figure it out.

*The fact that I'm calling him "dude" is faint foreshadowing of how this is about to go down; unless it's "Dude, I love you, but I'm way too high to follow this conversation right now, so how 'bout skipping to the end, mate?" I basically never use "dude" as a term of, you know, endearment.

**"Alwrong" should be a word to describe times like these times.

***What is an "s" word that means "analysis"? If Google was speaking to me right now, I'd just look it the fuck up.

Element of Honesty