I'm so fucking bored with the crip experience right now. Not just mine, everyone else's too. But my article is coming along fine...I'm just reminded of why I didn't go into disability studies full-time. We're boring and we complain a lot. Did y'all know there was a gay crip magazine called "Bent"? "They used to have more respect for cripples!"(off look) No, they didn't!"
Spike's Bitches 29: That sure as hell wasn't in the brochure.
[NAFDA] Spike-centric discussion. Lusty, lewd (only occasionally crude), risque (and frisque), bawdy (Oh, lawdy!), flirty ('cuz we're purty), raunchy talk inside. Caveat lector.
"My dad said that if I called you, you'd buy cookies." I, of course, did.
Well YEAH.
Maybe we'll buy something. (dies laughing)
Play the lottery?
Aimee, I had trouble renting when I first moved to Jersey because my credit report was showing that I owed the IRS $10,000 (I didn't). I explained the sitch to the landlords, and they were okay about it. It helped to rent from people, who make their own decisions, rather than management companies. Also, letters of recommendation from previous landlords help a lot. Don't give up!
I'm so fucking bored with the crip experience right now. Not just mine, everyone else's too. But my article is coming along fine...I'm just reminded of why I didn't go into disability studies full-time. We're boring and we complain a lot. Did y'all know there was a gay crip magazine called "Bent"? "They used to have more respect for cripples!"(off look) No, they didn't!"
That would be a tough degree. It would be like watching the damn Olympic Profiles every day for the rest of your life.
My Mother felt it was wrong for her to sell them at work.
I hated that about selling cookies. My dad wouldn't bring them to work and I was very shy about some things, growing up (I still hate to sell shit, I could never be a salesperson, even though I'm not shy anymore)
I skipped the last, um, 300 messages in the old thread. But I got to see Kristin get her hair cut! Sadly, the hair cutter lady has no appointments before I go home, so my hair shall remain boring.
wrod, Trudy. Something else I hate: My brother giving my dad his little spy reports about us. I wish he'd ask me about me, if he wants to know. But he doesn't, because when he gets critical I tell him to stuff it and he doesn't like it.(Thanks, Bitches!) I swear I don't know why my father busts my ovaries so much. Sure, I'm in debt, but I've never had any migraine medication or baby daddys. I vote and I finished college. Didn't get the Pill or tattooed till I was grown. I think I am my generation's fucking daughter of the year, whom anyone else would be tremendously proud of and he's a punk making my brother criticize me for him.(And I would be more pissed at my brother except he is a Manchurian candidate.)
"They used to have more respect for cripples!" (off look) "No, they didn't!"
Hugh Laurie will be on Letterman Feb. 24th
meara, I'd love to see you while you are in town. I know, I was supposed to email you, but then I was too busy to check my email for a few days.
Ugh, you also reminded me that I need to do something about my hair. It is desparate for some color.
Teppy
use it as an excuse to get Andi to take care of you.
The man used up the last of my Tabasco Sauce on a batch of pork ribs today. I'll take care of him, alright. I'ma buy me a new bottle pour some right over his new batch of chili which he says he forgot to put chili powder in.
Hullo loves. New thread, whee!
(also, I wish I had been here for the thread turnover, but I had a very good reason not to - sleeping in, wandering Chinatown with a cute boy, sleeping, eating dinner with my friend. So. Yes, it's been a good day.)