Rant - April 15

THERE IS NO RANT FOR TODAY. 

Sweet Brown’s goodness and light are shining, therefore rendering me incapable of being angry about anything. 

If I start to get annoyed today, I’m going to ask myself, What Would Sweet Brown Do? 

Rave - March 28

whatshouldwecallme.tumblr.com

This is everything. It combines my love of old-school Disney with a touch of LOL. I approve. As RuPaul would say (because all solid advice comes from her), “Shante, you stay.”

whatshouldwecallme:

Playing in the waves

Expectation:

Reality:

via whatshouldwecallme

Rant - March 28

This Weather

I, like, everyone else in the metro Chicago area, had a major love affair with Mother Nature and her freak weather pattern for the past couple weeks. I mean, my birthday is normally a rainy and cold miz-fest. But not this year. This year, we enjoyed almost three weeks of amazing temperatures, sunny skies, and the hope that maybe summer had arrived. It was a magic time.

Alas, it was not to last. We had a weird shift back to March in Chicago. It was cold, rainy, then foggy for 2 days, then back to rainy, and now it’s sunny but kind of freezing. I can’t. I’m not even sure what to do. Sometimes I want to open a window because it’s sunny, but then I do and the cold hand of Winter reaches in and slaps me across the mouth. Can’t it just not? Please?

—

DICTIONARY TIME!!!

miz-fest: (noun) a fiesta of some of the worst things that can ruin your day; when, by some cruel twist of Fate, everything/body you detest magically appear and cause your eyes to roll so hard you have to sit down or get vertigo. 

Rave - Nov. 20th

Weekend in NYC

The weekend of the the 11th, I spent an amazing weekend in the Big Apple with friends, C & N. 

It was such a quintessential New York weekend. Amazing fall weather, lots of walks in Central Park. Great restaurants and time with friends. No shopping, but only because I wasn’t sure how I’d get everything home if I started shopping. And also because large shopping crowds give me slight anxiety. (I once had to put my head between my knees in a Schottenstein store because of the number of kids running around. No joke.)

If I had to pick out the day that summed up the city, it would be Saturday. Don’t get me wrong, Friday night was amazing. Dinner at Buddakan, then drinks in the Meatpacking District. C, N, and myself on the town. 

Now, Saturday. Brunch at Blue Water Grill off Union Square. Walk through the the Union Square green market. Stop at Fishs Eddy to look at dishes. Back to the Upper East Side for a recoup nap. Dinner at the Odeon in Tribeca. Amazing drinks and prime steaks. Celebrity sighting at the restaurant. Two if we’re keeping count…which we are (Cyndi Lauper and Wanda Sykes!!) Nonchalant acknowledgment of said celebs. Casual stroll through the Financial District and past OWS in Zuccotti Park. Late night ride on the 5 train in which an attack occurred in the next car. SUCH A NEW YORK DAY.

Rant - Nov. 20

Flying Delta Airlines

Never again. Delta is #theworst. I happened upon a great rate to NYC and figured I’d take a chance. Normally I’m an American Airlines or United flyer, but thought, “Oh, this Delta flight is a bit less expensive. Why not?”

I’ll tell you why not. Flying Delta is what you do when you want to experience travel hell. Flying out of O’Hare, the Delta area is smaller and therefore more crowded. Then once you make it into the terminal to find your flight, NONE of the departure screens show Delta flights. (And when you’re trying to make a flight and can’t find your gate, this doesn’t exactly fill you with the happys.) I ended up walking around the terminal even after asking at information. Finally found it, but it was in this unmarked gate in East Boo-Foo. Color me flustered.

Now the flight back. Equally awful. When you fly Delta out of LaGuardia, get ready for full-fledged specialness. Your cab driver will drop you off at the Delta Terminal which is fine and dandy….unless you are going to O’Hare, Logan, or Reagan airports. In this case, you’ll walk into the terminal, a Delta employee will ask for your boarding pass, then tell you your flight is in a different terminal altogether.  

The only upside to this shuttle business is since only 13 people can fit into the van, you’re only going through security in waves of thirteen. So you end up making it through in about five minutes. Otherwise, it’s a bust. 

—-

DICTIONARY TIME!!!

East Boo-Foo: A place so far from civilization, you’ve almost forgotten how to recognize clean water and a legal system. 

Rave - Oct. 31st

This Halloween

Great Halloween. The Brown Elephant costume party was a success. The whole group of guys were First Ladies. I was Barbara Bush. (And let me tell you, Babs ain’t never looked so good.)

Rant - Oct. 31st

This Halloween

No rant. I WAS BARBARA FREAKIN’ BUSH. As Bush 1 would say, “A thousand points of light!”

Rave - Oct. 29th

Halloween

I think Halloween is an early Christmas gift. Without fail, the most amazing things happen when adults put on costumes. It’s like a performance of As You Like It and everyone is playing Rosalind. Once people put on a costume, they get to tap into the “true self” without feeling judged. “All the world’s a stage” indeed.

This year, I’m not sure what I am going to be. I’m attending a combination birthday and Halloween party where we have to pick our costumes from clothing at the Brown Elephant shop on Halsted. Lord only knows how I’ll end up.

Rant - Oct. 29th

Halloween costume selection

Every year I say this and I mean it every year. Must women be relegated to “sexy [insert traditionally unsexy noun]” costumes? I don’t get it. The feminist in me is over it. It’s equal parts objectification and gender subjugation mixed with commercialism and a lack of creativity. The practical person in me (i.e. the Dad) thinks of how cold you must be, since your chi chis and nalgas are peeking out. Stop showing ya charms, girl!

Plus, I may be alone in this opinion but I think a creative costume, be it funny or topical or even homemade, is much more fun. When I was a kid, everyone had a costume made by their mother. Sometimes it was made-from-scratch, sometimes it was made from dress up clothes. But it was better than any off the rack costume. We all kind of felt bad for the kids who had the weird, store-bought costume. But now, the default costume is from one of the storefront Halloween shops. Ugh, why would I spend $64.99 for something I’m going to wear for one day? Nothanksimgood.

DICTIONARY TIME!!!!

chi chis – noun. Spanish slang for a woman’s chest

nalgas – noun. Spanish slang for the derriere.

Rave - June 23rd

PRIDE WEEKEND

Oh yes, it’s that time again. The time when national supplies of glitter and flavored vodka run dangerously low. The time when the fringe (read: absolutely crazy) churches blow their budgets on trips to modern day Sodom (read: any city with a gay population.) The time when the UNST UNST UNST rings out clearly, beckoning all to it’s enveloping sounds.

Yes, my dears, Pride Weekend is here!

This year I intend to enjoy every minute of it. I’ve run every errand I could possibly need to run. Suitable clothing (read: flattering) has been chosen. And I have nothing to do this weekend beside get my gay on. Please note: “get my gay on” is not a euphemism. It’s just something e’ery gay man knows how to do.

Things I’m looking forward to this weekend:

1. Sun – the weather is supposed to be gorgeous. For some reason, knock on wood, we always seem to have clear weather on Pride weekend.
2. People watching – oh child, this is it’s own reward. Pride brings out all kinds. You and your friends just have to walk down the street and you can see some sights that’ll make you stop and pull a, “Harpo, who dis woman?” Either that or a “What in the gay hell?!”
3. Remixes – pride weekend is when you hear nonstop remixes of popular songs. Ever heard Prince sing “Mary Had A Little Lamb” sampled with David Bowie and Tupac? Well, batten down the hatches, because it’s about to happen. Remixes are equally great and horrid.

DICTIONARY TIME!!

UNST UNST UNST – (noun) 1. house music common found in gay bars. Makes your ears ring, your pupils dilate, your back pop, and your booty twerk.

Harpo, who dis woman? – 1. used when you genuinely have no idea who someone is; as seen in The Color Purple and delivered by O-Prah. 

Rant - June 23th

PRIDE AFTERMATH

The worst part about the parade is the way the neighborhood looks afterward. Oh, it’s awful. The only one who would enjoy it is Templeton. (Cue Paul Lynde’s best song ever. Then cue me singing it all day.) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vZau57XQAhU

It’s like a fleet of garbage trucks exploded all over Boystown. There is trash EVERYWHERE. It’s usually worse on Halsted, since that’s the official starting point and therefore the touristy spot. For a good idea of how bad it gets, take a gander at this little photographic gem I took a couple years ago.

I’m not sure what’s worse – the overflowing trash can or the drunken little gutter animal SITTING SHIRTLESS IN THE TRASH. I can’t. It was too much then and it’s almost too much now. I can’t wait. 

Rave - May 13th

Free laundry

This might sound like a weird one, but last night it was a gift from [insert deity of your choice]. I woke up on Wednesday morning with a row of bug bites on my arm. They itched, pretty badly. Instead of reacting like a normal person and putting some hydrocortisone on my arm, I immediately assumed my apartment was infested with bed bugs. That’s right. I must have rolled over in my sleep and clicked on the “crazy” switch.  (Although in my defense, you can’t ride the CTA without seeing an ad proclaiming “BED BUGS ARE BACK” and trying to get you to buy a mattress cover. The power of advertising!)

Anyway, I freaked out and proceeded to tear my clean room apart in a matter of minutes. It was probably very Faye Dunaway in Mommie Dearest (“This room is filthy. YOU are filthy. We’re going to clean this togethahhhh!”) Cut to me stripping the bed sheets while frantically trying to Google “signs of bed bugs” and “how do you get bed bugs?”

Thank goodness for the free laundry in my building. Otherwise I’d have bankrupted myself trying to clean everything. You never really know how much clothing you have until you lose your connection to reality and wash all your clothes.

Later I realized they were mosquito bites. I allowed the crazy to run loose for nothing.