Need I say more?
Sunday, March 31, 2013
Saturday, March 30, 2013
Not Too Hot, Not Too Cold
by Tamra Artelia Martin
Is that too much to ask? For weather that doesn't freeze the blackness off of me or heat that puts it back on? It's spring, but cold is everywhere from Boston to Orlando. Spring, I tell you. Spring.
I've always found it odd that intelligent humans depend on groundhogs for weather predictions. These animals are facing the wrath of disappointed followers everywhere. If I was near that inaccurate animal, I'd eat it as punishment.
You know what my dream weather conditions are? A nice 75 to 85 degree range with warm sun and cool breezes. Shorts weather, although I don't wear them. If I found a place like this year-round, you'd have trouble keeping me from moving to it. Add cute guys, beautiful scenery, and some fruity drinks, and I'll advertise it for free. Okay, money's tight, so I'll do it for cheap.
Bye Chai,
Tamra
Is that too much to ask? For weather that doesn't freeze the blackness off of me or heat that puts it back on? It's spring, but cold is everywhere from Boston to Orlando. Spring, I tell you. Spring.
I've always found it odd that intelligent humans depend on groundhogs for weather predictions. These animals are facing the wrath of disappointed followers everywhere. If I was near that inaccurate animal, I'd eat it as punishment.
You know what my dream weather conditions are? A nice 75 to 85 degree range with warm sun and cool breezes. Shorts weather, although I don't wear them. If I found a place like this year-round, you'd have trouble keeping me from moving to it. Add cute guys, beautiful scenery, and some fruity drinks, and I'll advertise it for free. Okay, money's tight, so I'll do it for cheap.
Bye Chai,
Tamra
Thursday, March 28, 2013
Gay Club Memories
by Tamra Artelia Martin
Have you ever compared gay clubs to straight clubs? Fun goes to die in straight bars. There's only dancing, music, and drinks. If one of those three things are messed up, you end up hating the entire experience. Gay clubs are just more exciting.
In gay bars, you get all three plus shows, hot dancers, and fun interactions. Less chance of being bored out of your mind. I should say Florida gay bars are fun because, try as we might, Sherard and I have searched multiple states and haven't found the ones like our usual haunts in the Sunshine State (Mister Sisters RIP).
Sherard and I visited Savoy for his less-than-24-hour visit this week. We enjoyed the nostalgia, familiar (an unfamiliar sights), and our drink of choice: a Dirty Shirley. We ended the night with more drinks, Taco Bell, and a great movie (FYI: For A Good Time, Call... is movie genius, and you should see it). Sometimes all it takes is a decent gay bar, good food, and a great friend. Simple pleasures make life worth it.
Bye Chai,
Tamra
P.S.: If you know of some great clubs (gay or straight), let us know. Our standards are high but flexible.
Have you ever compared gay clubs to straight clubs? Fun goes to die in straight bars. There's only dancing, music, and drinks. If one of those three things are messed up, you end up hating the entire experience. Gay clubs are just more exciting.
In gay bars, you get all three plus shows, hot dancers, and fun interactions. Less chance of being bored out of your mind. I should say Florida gay bars are fun because, try as we might, Sherard and I have searched multiple states and haven't found the ones like our usual haunts in the Sunshine State (Mister Sisters RIP).
Sherard and I visited Savoy for his less-than-24-hour visit this week. We enjoyed the nostalgia, familiar (an unfamiliar sights), and our drink of choice: a Dirty Shirley. We ended the night with more drinks, Taco Bell, and a great movie (FYI: For A Good Time, Call... is movie genius, and you should see it). Sometimes all it takes is a decent gay bar, good food, and a great friend. Simple pleasures make life worth it.
Bye Chai,
Tamra
P.S.: If you know of some great clubs (gay or straight), let us know. Our standards are high but flexible.
Tuesday, March 26, 2013
Perfect Blog
by Sherard Harrington
I want a blog dedicated to cute guys, Mini Coopers, and puppies. (All in one photo.) LET’S MAKE THIS HAPPEN, PEOPLE. GET THE LEAD OUT.
I want a blog dedicated to cute guys, Mini Coopers, and puppies. (All in one photo.) LET’S MAKE THIS HAPPEN, PEOPLE. GET THE LEAD OUT.
Monday, March 25, 2013
A Recent Textual Conversation
by Sherard Harrington
Sherard Harrington: Do you ever feel like even if there were 7 of you, you still wouldn’t get the work done requested of you? Like Chris Hansen is waiting behind a door somewhere, ready to pop out and say, “What did you expect when you signed on for all these projects? Have a seat. Have a seat right here.”
Genevieve Tyrrell: This is Chris Hansen for Dateline. We’ve been investigating stressed graduate students. Do you have anything to say for yourself wiped out this Sunday, when you really ought to be by yourself getting a hot stone massage?
Sherard Harrington: “I was just being foolish I guess.” Two articles behind for the internship and omg who I would KILL for a hot stone massage. We’re talking dictatorship numbers here.
Sherard Harrington: Do you ever feel like even if there were 7 of you, you still wouldn’t get the work done requested of you? Like Chris Hansen is waiting behind a door somewhere, ready to pop out and say, “What did you expect when you signed on for all these projects? Have a seat. Have a seat right here.”
Genevieve Tyrrell: This is Chris Hansen for Dateline. We’ve been investigating stressed graduate students. Do you have anything to say for yourself wiped out this Sunday, when you really ought to be by yourself getting a hot stone massage?
Sherard Harrington: “I was just being foolish I guess.” Two articles behind for the internship and omg who I would KILL for a hot stone massage. We’re talking dictatorship numbers here.
Sunday, March 24, 2013
God Don’t Like Ugly
by Sherard Harrington
So. Spring Break. Spring Break? Spring Break.
Here’s what was supposed to happen over Spring Break: I was supposed to do my History B paper, and clean, and look for an apartment, and look for a job, and take things easy (somehow...perhaps by going to New York and having a whirlwind adventure where I have drinks with a friend from back home, and I see the city in a different light).
Here’s what really happened over Spring Break: I caught a cold. It snowed (and the snow hung around for the entire week). I had an emotional fling with a guy who lives 4 states away. (Like, what?) I interviewed three artists for my internship but still somehow did not produce a single article. I re-wrote about half of the Campus Climate Action Plan. Did not touch the history paper, nor go anywhere near the broom. Applied to two jobs, with the severe hope that one will hire me. (Given the ratio of jobs applied to/job offers extended in the last 12 months, neither of them will hire me.) Glanced at apartments for rent and turned disgustingly away. Went to the gym once, cause my earphones broke the Friday starting Spring Break, and I was waiting on a new pair. And I went to New York! For one day. Where I spoke to no one. I read my friends’ theses in a tea house in Brooklyn, walked the Brooklyn Bridge, lost complete cell reception in Prospect Park (seriously, AT&T, if ever there was a place in Brooklyn to get raped/shivved/mugged, it’s Prospect Park, and the very second I step foot onto the green, all the bars went flat. Handing you a very pretty WTF card on that one), and went to a museum in Chelsea, just outside of which I saw the following piece of graffiti:
And that was my Spring Break. God Don’t Like Ugly, people. Stay Fat. If only it were that simple.
So. Spring Break. Spring Break? Spring Break.
Here’s what was supposed to happen over Spring Break: I was supposed to do my History B paper, and clean, and look for an apartment, and look for a job, and take things easy (somehow...perhaps by going to New York and having a whirlwind adventure where I have drinks with a friend from back home, and I see the city in a different light).
Here’s what really happened over Spring Break: I caught a cold. It snowed (and the snow hung around for the entire week). I had an emotional fling with a guy who lives 4 states away. (Like, what?) I interviewed three artists for my internship but still somehow did not produce a single article. I re-wrote about half of the Campus Climate Action Plan. Did not touch the history paper, nor go anywhere near the broom. Applied to two jobs, with the severe hope that one will hire me. (Given the ratio of jobs applied to/job offers extended in the last 12 months, neither of them will hire me.) Glanced at apartments for rent and turned disgustingly away. Went to the gym once, cause my earphones broke the Friday starting Spring Break, and I was waiting on a new pair. And I went to New York! For one day. Where I spoke to no one. I read my friends’ theses in a tea house in Brooklyn, walked the Brooklyn Bridge, lost complete cell reception in Prospect Park (seriously, AT&T, if ever there was a place in Brooklyn to get raped/shivved/mugged, it’s Prospect Park, and the very second I step foot onto the green, all the bars went flat. Handing you a very pretty WTF card on that one), and went to a museum in Chelsea, just outside of which I saw the following piece of graffiti:
And that was my Spring Break. God Don’t Like Ugly, people. Stay Fat. If only it were that simple.
Wednesday, March 13, 2013
Too Busy for Coffee
by Sherard Harrington
You know those days when you’re too busy to even pour yourself a cup of coffee?
*sigh.*
You know those days when you’re too busy to even pour yourself a cup of coffee?
*sigh.*
Tuesday, March 12, 2013
Delusions of Minutiae
by Sherard Harrington
You are on the beach. You are on the beach. The water is fair and clear. The sand is gentle and inviting. The air is lightly salty and the breeze is nearly nonexistent.
People run by with their dogs, all smiles. The drink in your hand is fruity. Cool, not cold to the touch. You are in a beach chair. There is an umbrella. The waitstaff are attractive. You like it here. You could live forever here. You’re going to return to your afternoon nap now. The book in your lap—as good as it is—can wait.
One minute passes.
Now go back to work. Back to your all nighter.
You are on the beach. You are on the beach. The water is fair and clear. The sand is gentle and inviting. The air is lightly salty and the breeze is nearly nonexistent.
People run by with their dogs, all smiles. The drink in your hand is fruity. Cool, not cold to the touch. You are in a beach chair. There is an umbrella. The waitstaff are attractive. You like it here. You could live forever here. You’re going to return to your afternoon nap now. The book in your lap—as good as it is—can wait.
One minute passes.
Now go back to work. Back to your all nighter.
Monday, March 4, 2013
Validation!
by Sherard Harrington
You know what made my day today? A rejection letter! I sent them some of my fiction, and they wrote back and said that even though they couldn’t fit it in at that time, I should definitely send them more of my work in the future! I’ve been urged—by an editor—to submit work to a literary magazine. Posh!
They also sent me one of their reviewer’s comments along with the rejection letter. This is what actually made my day. Lily Tomlin? Awesome.
Just when you think that no one likes your writing, you know?
—
P.S. Spring Break is actually next next week. In my face. But I don’t care cause I just got awesomely rejected.
You know what made my day today? A rejection letter! I sent them some of my fiction, and they wrote back and said that even though they couldn’t fit it in at that time, I should definitely send them more of my work in the future! I’ve been urged—by an editor—to submit work to a literary magazine. Posh!
They also sent me one of their reviewer’s comments along with the rejection letter. This is what actually made my day. Lily Tomlin? Awesome.
Just when you think that no one likes your writing, you know?
—
P.S. Spring Break is actually next next week. In my face. But I don’t care cause I just got awesomely rejected.
Sunday, March 3, 2013
Another Day, Another Lunch
by Sherard Harrington
I take pictures of lunch because it would otherwise be pictures of me gluing pieces of cardboard together, wiping off glue, measuring millimeters and half millimeters, or running out to the art store for more basswood. Today it’s coffee, grilled cheese, and tomato soup.
I just really really hope that in the end, it’s all worth it. I worked quite hard for my first masters, and that has led me nowhere so far. (Unless you think that interning at two different magazines is an economically stable way to make a living.) Career wise, I haven’t quite gotten my foot into any door. I’ve stepped up on a few patios. I’ve strolled down a few sidewalks, but no doors yet.
Maybe I’m the one who needs a lit candle. My wick’s getting pretty low. I’m so ready for Spring Break. One more week!
I take pictures of lunch because it would otherwise be pictures of me gluing pieces of cardboard together, wiping off glue, measuring millimeters and half millimeters, or running out to the art store for more basswood. Today it’s coffee, grilled cheese, and tomato soup.
I just really really hope that in the end, it’s all worth it. I worked quite hard for my first masters, and that has led me nowhere so far. (Unless you think that interning at two different magazines is an economically stable way to make a living.) Career wise, I haven’t quite gotten my foot into any door. I’ve stepped up on a few patios. I’ve strolled down a few sidewalks, but no doors yet.
Maybe I’m the one who needs a lit candle. My wick’s getting pretty low. I’m so ready for Spring Break. One more week!
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