I FOUND MY KEYS.

May

2011

This comment on my last post, from Beat Of My Own Drum was so good I had to make a post out of it:

I hope feminists won’t hate me for an observation I’ve made. I’m all about women empowerment, after all. But I’ve observed that no matter how successful a woman gets in her career, it’s her personal relationships that she chooses to define her. It’s not true for all women, but it is for most, it seems. That’s probably why, even though we’re strong women, we wouldn’t mind being swept off our feet by a prince.

Or maybe it’s the Chanel suits and not having to work our asses off to earn enough.

Why did this never occur to me before? Is it like when you’re looking for your keys and you realize you’ve been holding them the entire time? Okay so who hasn’t known someone (celebrity or friend) by this description and this description only: _____’s girlfriend. Maybe some rockstars’ girlfriends/ex wives/whatever make their living by writing about their flings (which, shit, is pretty much what I do, fffffffuuuuuuu) and if that’s the way they wanna go, OK, you make that work like a factory. Is it just that their male partner’s fame eclipsed theirs? Let’s be real, no one was ever going to refer to JFK Jr. as “Carolyn Bessette’s husband.”

But even successful women of their own right can never dodge their relationship statuses: Marilyn Monroe AND Hillary Clinton both had trouble shaking off their man troubles, even though both women were powerful and famous. This is the one thing I really dig about Gaga right now: when she said, “Your career will never wake up and tell you it doesn’t love you anymore” she fucking meant it. We don’t hear about who Gaga’s dating (well, except for when she tried to convince us that she was bisexual; kissing your best friend at a crazy freshman NYU party DOESN’T COUNT I’M JUST SAYING). I don’t even care, come at me, if Gaga’s bisexual than I am part Batman. IT’S JUST SO FUCKING CALCULATED. EVEN MADONNA WENT THROUGH HER LESBIAN PHASE WHEN SHE NEEDED IT FOR HER CAREER. REMEMBER THE WHOLE SANDRA BERNHARD THING? WHY AM I SHOUTING? We hear about her career. And her outfits. But her career. It’s inspiring. Until she wears fake dinosaur bones in her face or whatever is going on there.

I don’t have any answers, but I now have a desire to define myself by who I am and what I do, not who I’m fucking. Or “dating.” Or “married to.” Or “divorcing.” Or “murdered.” Right???

I haven’t forgotten about my reader questions! In fact I am currently editing (with some rad people) my latest Apocalypstick video installment and this one is shot on nice cameras and with lighting that isn’t the glow of my MacBook! It looks great! We’ll probably have that done by the end of the month. I also have a new Betty Draper video to post so…you know, hold onto something, because that’s gonna knock you over. I’m also on vyou now but I don’t even know how to deal with that yet. I am drowning in Internet right now. AND I just started writing for The College Crush which is full of practical advice even if you are in high school or out of college.

Real Wild Child (Wild One) – Iggy Pop

MAD props to Robin for the gif!

Follow me on Twitter | Facebook

Worst. Feminist. Ever.

Apr

2011

This Royal Wedding frenzy has me thinking I would very much like to marry a prince right now. How fucking easy. What an awesome life you have when your biggest obstacle is that you’re too tired to go to another charity ball? Sometimes I just don’t want to work (but who doesn’t, right?). I want to be adored and appreciated. I just want to stand there in a chanel suit and wave. And not even wave strenously.

I’m probably not supposed to admit this. But damn, I would really like someone to swoop in and take care of me right now. Someone to love me with reckless abandon. Someone who protects me and then announces to the world that I am theirs. Look. I love my life and I love writing and everything I do. But if a prince came up to me right now — hell, I’ll settle for a rich producer — with a gigantic ring I would take it and then immediately pose for the cover of People Magazine. I should not want this, right? I should want satisfaction to come from me. From my actions, my success. And yet…fuck. That. Shit.

Thus, I am the worst feminist ever. But goddamn, between my job and a Kennedy…I’m sorry. I am choosing the Kennedy. Oh, in this scenario my job is working in Ralph Lauren, which is what Carolyn Bessett did when he met her. So yeah, that’s not really a toss-up. (Unless you really like your job in retail! That’s ok! I’m not trying to hate on anyones’ life choices!)

I realize how fucking terrible that is. But I just want someone to point a finger at me and say, “YOU are FUCKING GREAT.” Like an Uncle Sam poster, but instead of Uncle Sam, it’s Jon Hamm. Why can’t it be you, Apocalypstick? Why can’t it be you pointing at yourself in a mirror? I don’t know, Grandmother Willow. I DON’T KNOW WHAT’S AROUND THE RIVERBEND.

Can I still be a feminist if I really just want to marry a prince and peace the fuck out? If I want to do that, isn’t that my choice, and isn’t that just as valid as any choice a woman makes in her life? Or am I just the little girl who wanted to be a princess who never grew out of it (I’M LOOKING AT YOU, ARIEL AND BELLE. BUT NOT YOU, SNOW WHITE, YOUR MOVIE SCARED ME. I WILL NEVER LOOK AT YOU AGAIN)? JFK Jr. was the closest thing we had to royalty, maybe this is why we’re going batshit for Wills & Kate. Who is American royalty to us now? Jon Hamm? Who would be the big “catch”? You are, Apocalypstick. You are! No, shut up. I am no one. I am a girl with a blog who wants to be a Princess. That ain’t right.

Actually, you know what really ain’t right? These bridesmaid dresses are rumored to be $30,000 something dollars.

I think I just snapped out of this princess shit.

Your Song – Elton John

The most unabashedly romantic song of all time. OF ALL TIME.

Follow me on Twitter | Facebook

I Want The Wedding. Not The Marriage.

Apr

2011

One husband. One wife. Whaddya got? Two people sentenced for life. – Nina Simone, “Marriage Is For Old Folks”

Oh Apocalypstick, what is your deal? Do you like weddings? Hate them? Do you want to get married or condemn those who do? Tell me your stories. Your dreams. Tell me everything. Okay, imaginary questioner. I love weddings, as long as you give me a plus one. I read wedding blogs like it’s my job. (IN NO WAY DOES THIS INTERFERE WITH MY REAL JOBS. JUST WANT TO MAKE THAT CLEAR. CLEAR WITH CAPS.)

I want a wedding. Why wouldn’t I? I LOVE PARTIES. The ceremony, not so much.

Here’s what I want. I want a Non Wedding Wedding. The invitations will say, “This is not a wedding. It is a celebration of me and whoever I tricked into being with me. There will be a party with an endless open bar. There will be a fantastic DJ, Sarah Jurassica Parker, and yes, that’s me.” I plan on DJing my own wedding. I’m really controlling about music. I got it from my cool Silverlake dwelling hip music industry bass playing cocktail aficionado uncle.

I just hate calling it a “marriage.” Some people get that, that you shouldn’t have to label it, and others say, well if it’s just a word why not use it and definite as you like? That’s a really cool idea in theory but our society (or at least the one I’m a part of) won’t let that fly. Our society is real uptight about marriage. Not just the “precious institution” thing but the little things, the things that you “should” or “shouldn’t” do. I’ve always wanted to wear my engagement ring as a necklace because I hate my stubby little childlike hands, and I don’t wear rings unless they’re huge cocktail rings, but that’s not important right now. But I know so many people who would not understand that. And that’s ok. But damn will it get tiring.

And I want an engagement ring but not a wedding ring. Again, yes, this is partly because of my little fatty elfin fingers, but I don’t want anything that says I’m married. An engagement ring is more like, I am with you and you are with me. It’s like a promise ring but with a diamond. Because I want a diamond. And I would wear it on my middle finger or my index finger, because those are the most flattering fingers for rings. Yes, I know I sound insane. I just really hate my hands. They’re freakishly small. I’m not exaggerating this, I’ll be conversing with someone and all of a sudden they’ll stop and say, “Oh my God, your hands are so small.” Continue reading →

Follow me on Twitter | Facebook

Plus One Or Get None.

Apr

2011

Photo by David Pullum London wedding photographer

I have a feeling that what I am going to say is going to piss a few people off, so I may as well not mince words and just be blunt: if you do not give everyone invited to your wedding a plus one, you are a total fucking asshole.

Whoa, right! “How dare you, Apocalypstick, or whatever the fuck your name is! Fuck you! Do you have any idea how expensive weddings are?”

I do. I read wedding blogs like it’s my job, and it’s not my job, so it’s actually a little sad. A lot of people, rightfully appalled by how much weddings cost, especially in this economy, are doing a lot of DIY. If you don’t want to do that, then maybe try not buying a thousand dollar wedding dress. Seriously, what the fuck is that? By all means, I love fashion and expensive things, so if you want to spend your own money on that, that’s fine, but don’t get all surprised when you realize your wedding bill is adding up faster than the Sesame Street Count.

A wedding reception is a party. A wedding ceremony is something else, and if you want to keep that guest list limited, then I understand. But let’s not kid ourselves, your wedding reception is a big party for everyone to celebrate you and your husband/wife/partner. That’s totally cool, but how can you tell me I can’t bring a date? Because you’re paying for dinner? When I throw parties, I provide alcohol and food too, and if someone wants to bring a date I’m like, go for it, because that’s what you do when you want your friends to celebrate with you. If you don’t think more is merrier, then keep your reception to family only and your best friend.

Because here’s the thing: by not letting me bring someone, you are punishing me for being single. You may not see it that way. You may see it as trying to save money. I see it as you being a jerk. I’m not even going to talk to you much at your wedding anyway, and I may not know anyone there, and I don’t want to stand or sit awkwardly all by myself all night and think about how I’m alone. “That’s your problem,” you say. No, it’s yours too, because if you’re inviting me, it means I’m your friend and that you want me to be there. I’m showing up, I’m getting you a gift, and I’m happy about it, but it really bums me out when you tell me I have to come alone.

And you know what’s even worse than weddings that don’t let you bring a plus one? Weddings that dictate you can only bring a date if you’ve been together for ____ amount of years. Fuck. You. Is my relationship any less valid than anyone else’s because we haven’t been together for over a year? What are you, the social life police? Get the fuck over yourself. I don’t question your relationship based on how long you’ve been with your fiance, so cut it out with the draconian relationship rules.

“But why should I have strangers at my wedding?” you ask. So don’t. Keep it family only. But guess what, you’re not even going to spend much time with the people you know. It’s your wedding and you’re going to be mobbed. And it’s not like I’m going to bring Charlie Sheen. My date is not going to ruin your wedding because they’re a stranger. What are you, twelve? Is this a super special slumber party? If I’m bringing a date, they’re coming because they want to be there too. Their name is on our card to you. I’m not going to drag some knife-wielding asshole.

Let me get all of the obvious comments out of the way: “Bitter much?”, “I see why you’re single”, “You probably don’t get invited to many weddings” [I don’t, thank God, because my friends aren’t getting married yet], “I’d like to see you plan your wedding.”

Now let’s have some real conversation.

Follow me on Twitter | Facebook

Of Tees and Coyotes.

Apr

2011

Hello everyone! I haven’t updated in a while, I know. I’m sorry. JUST KIDDING, I’M NOT SORRY. Look for my post on weddings later in the week. For now, here are some videos:

This one is my super low-budget commercial for Hand Made T-shirts By Kenzie. And no, she’s not paying me or anything, I just love her stuff with a an exploding passion.

And here’s a brand new video that I am premiering here on my blog! This is what happens when I write late into the night.

I’m curious about you guys: if you could get a t-shirt with anything on it, what would you get?

Follow me on Twitter | Facebook

I’m (Not) Sorry.

Mar

2011

“No thanks, I’m good.” “This might be a stupid question, but…” “I think you already told me this, so forgive me, but…” “I have this idea, it might be silly, but…” “I don’t think I can make it, but I’ll try…” “I’m sorry”, “I’m sorry”, “I’m sorry”, and “I’m sorry.”

Any of these sound familiar?

My friends and I are a group of funny, smart, confident girls and yet…I’ve noticed that either bluntly or subtly, most of our conversation contains some form of apology. I’m sure there have been studies about this pattern of women apologizing more than men and it fascinates me, especially when I catch myself do it. Why am I apologizing for not remembering the friend of a friend’s brother’s name? Why do I shyly suggest something as thought I’m going to be burned with a cigarette if my idea is rejected? Why can’t I just say a firm but polite “no” instead of, “Naw I’m good”? Why do we do this?

I’m not saying all women do this. I’m relieved not all women do this. I wonder if it’s just a matter of being in a position of power. I suppose it makes sense if at work or on a job interview you have an apologetic tone (whereas the person interviewing you does not) because you don’t want to step on toes and admit it, you just want to be liked. (Again, I know, not all women share this thought, and that’s great too.) Is it our generation? Are we so used to texting and email that we’ve viewed the phone and “real-life” conversation as something uncomfortable? Once our computers are taken away from us, does our confidence go with it? The more I think about it, the more instances I find. Like the time some obnoxious guy hit on my friend for about half an hour until she finally had enough and ended it. The time I asked a question in acting class and prefaced it with, “This is going to maybe sound like an insult but I swear I don’t mean it that way, I just have a question…” or when my drink is made incorrectly at Starbucks and I practically fall over myself apologizing explaining that this wasn’t what I ordered and can you please remake it, I’m so sorry. Like it’s my fucking fault you made me a hot latte even though I asked for iced. And it’s not a big deal, that’s not my point. The big deal is that I feel like it’s my fault.

Be honest with yourself: is this something that you do? Really think about it. If someone asks you to attend something that you really don’t want to attend, do you hesitate, put on a happy face and say something like, “I don’t know, I’ll have to check my schedule, but it really sounds like fun, I hope I can make it, I’m sorry I just don’t know yet!”? I’m not saying you should reply, “Your party sounds like ass, fuck off” but there’s a polite yet firm way to say no. I hate when people say, “I wish I could be there.” There’s no wishing. If you want to be there, be there. You don’t need a genie in a bottle, you just need your car keys.

When I worked in retail I thought maybe part of the apologetic nature came from the fact that I was just a sales person and not the manager, but then I noticed that even the manager had a tone with customers of, “Let me help you please and I’m so sorry if you don’t want me to, I’m just trying to be helpful.” She would approach customers gingerly but sweetly and ask them, “Would you like me to pop open that jewelry case for you?” with about six question marks hanging in the air, as though they were going to brandish a machete at her for even asking.

Let’s make a conscious effort not to apologize for things that we have no need to apologize for. Don’t say “I should have”, “My bad”, “Is that okay with you?”, or any other form of apology unless it is absolutely necessary.

There are too many people who didn’t deserve my apologies and I just gave it to them anyway.

http://bitchmagazine.org/post/feminist-coming-out-day-blog-carnival

Follow me on Twitter | Facebook