By Jeff Walsh
With his acoustic album "Motorcycle Childhood," Tyson Meade uses spare arrangement and raw vocals to share details of his life. It's very different from his other role as the openly gay lead singer of the Chainsaw Kittens, where he used to take to the stage in lipstick, tights and mini-skirts.
By Janis Ian
In a small town somewhere at the foot of the Appalachian Mountains, teachers prepare for the coming semester. Professors grimly consult lesson plans, breaking in new Dockers ("I still wear the same size I wore when I graduated," they brag, bellies hanging over their straining waistlines like blubber off Ahab's whaler). Dormitories are surrounded by troops of exterminators bent on eradicating last year's mess before the health department shows up for a final check. The grounds are infested with newly arrived victims, ready to give the university their all and terrified that anything beyond the boundaries of the parents' homes will eat them alive. If they only knew.
By Janis Ian
I am standing with my tit caught in a wringer while a mall-haired technician tells me to relax. I am thinking that if men had to put their testicles in a vise as part of a yearly physical, we would have a cure for the common cold by now. I am very frightened.
The pink slip came as we were leaving on vacation: "We have found what appears to be a routine abnormality..." What's routine about an abnormality? I decide to put on a brave front and joke that in all my life no one has ever called me routine; then I burst into tears. Later on I do the grown-up thing and panic, furtively examining my breasts in the mirror for changes. I'm afraid that if I touch them to check for lumps, I will set something off. I wish they were smaller. I wish they were removable. I wish they were on anyone but me.
I think tattoos are very very gross and pernament. While you can take your rings out and let your skin close. Although, theres this little thing I want out of a tattoo, is a small rainbow butterfly, dolphin or somthing on my pubes. Thats all I want and no more. Any suggestions what I should get tattooed with a rainbow? Let me know!
Two lovers on the net, (one in Maryland and one in California) want to meet each other, but one is a young teen and the other is a young adult. Their parents are very particular about net safety and it's not an easy task buying a ticket and flying all the way across. Any good ideas as to how these two people could meet?
I lost my planner.
It's not at home. It's not at work. So far as I can tell, I left it somewhere in the stacks Thursday evening, after searching out the 1914 issue of Blast (vorticism was cool, man) and photocopying an article. This means it's lost. I am not about to search all 12 levels of the stacks for a single book-sized object. It probably got tossed out as it is.
I feel lost and twitchy without my omnipresent planner. I take it everywhere. It had all mes devoirs for the weekend clearly outlined in it. All my exams, quizzes and papers for the semester. My appointments, weekly and otherwise. Pertinent office hours. Special phone numbers. The weight room schedule.
So, supposing one is facing the reality that over the next year they will probably be out to most everyone, and one is what it is like to have random uptight relatives know...
In plain English:
Some of my aunts and uncles are really... wierd. And not in a supporting of diversity type way. They already don't really like me or my family, so I was just wondering if anyone who's out has a similar situation and what its like. I won't let this stand in my way of my coming out more, but it kind of bothers me. Mainly I think it will be really sad, since between them there are quite a few cute little cousins, if they decide that I'm some kind of a pervert and don't want me around my cousins. I don't see them often anyway, so I guess it wouldn't be such a big deal. But hey, this is what is on my mind right now.
I just Finished an MSN conversation with an old friend. We hung out from 1998-2000. The pinacle of my party and club daze. He moved away to Boston to work. I became lost in the scene. He was shy and quiet, staye dhome on weekends. I partied and thought it insane t stay home on a Saturday.
Time changes things. He is me and I am him. In five years, I have done and seen it all. I feel like I am 80. maybe in the twisted world of gay time.
After Oasis went down, I lost my little group of queer friends. Dealing with wild hormones with a bunch of heteros is not to be advised. But now, I can read others' blogs and know that I'm not alone any longer. My hormones can now be mollified.
Since breaking with Lauren I
