Lesbian Problems

I liked the way the word lesbian rolled off my tongue and “angry” described exactly how I felt.

Being closeted is like living in an alternate world within this world.

Bonus: no one dies in a swimming pool.

There are many moments when the Last of Us Part II asks the player to do something she doesn’t want to do.

I don’t really have a thesis here.

How I learned to get a GRIP.

We need these spaces.

Here is a secret I learned from many many summers without a pool because I wasn’t a cool rich kid: Slip N Slide.

What is it about white wine that makes us EXTRA un-hinged the following day?

FROM THE ARCHIVES: I plan my funeral often.

Can we date with oblivion to the moon, and stars, or should we consider our charts when we fall in love? 

The fiction books you didn’t know you needed.

History is playing out before our eyes.

Minutes into the Facebook Live, we were taken by the (virtual) hand, and whisked away.

FROM THE ARCHIVES: Tinder confirmed that I am a big ol’ homo.

On the one hand, the flowers in LA were in full bloom; everything was so green and abundant. On the other hand, we were in a pandemic. On one hand, I was in love. On the other hand, it was with the wrong person.

Be. A. TEASE. For we all want what doesn’t ~come~ easily.

Now, I ALWAYS kiss on the first date. Just to make sure I don’t fall for another rough tongue.

Have you ever been so heartbroken, you don’t recognize yourself or where you are or who you’re with?

I don’t feel any more or less close to my dad because neither of us are straight. The same was true with my mom. Maybe that’s because sex is at the crux of sexuality, and sex just isn’t something you connect with your parents about.

When I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I run away.

FROM THE ARCHIVES: Never have I ever.

Help these places and workers stay afloat so we have some fabulous queer nightlife spots to return to once this is all over!

You need a firm hand in whipping your dating profile into shape.

I’m a desert Jew with eyebrows like caterpillars and arms so hairy you can’t make out the complexion of my skin beneath the thick brush.

Binging feels sort of like that manic social media scroll. You can’t stop. You can’t stop. You can’t stop. Nothing good is going inside of you. You know this. But still. You can’t stop.

Why not serve your Zoom colleagues a lewk they’ll never forget?

It all started as an innocent morning.

Something for everyqueer.

It’s in this ambiguity where queerness lives and thrives.

Stop stealing her clothes. You’re not sisters. You’re lovers.

Sigh.

Escapism is okay when the world is on fire.

The bartenders. The dancers. The Queens. The wild acceptance of salacious behavior.

How do you wash away intimate memories?

In the place of casual sex, what you now have is conversation.