What’s Up? (9/8/15)

Late Show
Tonight millions of Americans will tune in to Stephen Colbert’s new Late Show. I have to say, I find myself more excited than I thought I would have been. Maybe it’s the state of this country. There’s no Jon Stewart to extinguish the flames left by Donald Trump and Kim Davis. Gun violence runs wild, people shout Blue Lives Matter, Sarah Palin thinks people should be speaking American, Michelle Bachmann thinks–well who cares? (Something about the Supreme Court being a perversion).

The thing is, the return of Stephen Colbert feels like the return of a messiah. I feel like I need someone like him on TV now more than ever. Deliver us from evil, in the name of Stephen Colbert, amen.

New Apartment
It escapes me, whether or not I’ve written about the new place yet. It’s amazing. I get things done in this environment. I clean, I organize, I bike, I read–way more than I did before–and I can work here too. One of the things that I think increases productivity is the lack of roommates. (No offense roommates.) If I wanted to read on the couch before, I’d have to use the living room while nobody was using the TV. It’s not like the TV was constantly used, but the living room was shared between four people. Now, if I want to read on the couch, I read on the couch. It’s an obvious but big difference I guess, of living alone vs. with people.

Party In The Tropics
Friday, (9/4) there was a nice little shindig at Phipps’ Conservatory. A party in the tropics. A night to meet new people, dance, have a drink under the shade of a greenhouse full of beautiful flora. The whole event seemed like the beginning of a film, to me. It starts with me meeting friends in a room full of cacti, then it snowballs into including a political refugee from Belarus and his hummus recipe, the ins and outs of drinks, dancing, and the art of gala-type events. Drinking in museums, in art galleries, in conservatories, observatories — Pittsburgh provides you with all of these opportunities to pretend you’re in a James Bond flick. At any of these events, you can almost role-play the party, buy into the idea that you’re some high roller classy type, but with a knowing wink. It’s all about fun, and meeting people. You can never stop meeting people.

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What’s Up? (2/14/15)

Friday the Thirteenth, Twenty-Fifteen, may be up there for top five best days of life ever.” – 3:36 AM, 14, February, 2015.

The Vagina Monologues
Last night was epic, a word I seldom use without cringing afterwards. When we filled 360-ish chairs for the Thursday night showing of The Vagina Monologues, I was impressed, shocked, and proud…

Then we filled 500+ chairs for the Friday night performance. Then we had to turn away another 100 people who wanted to get in. Then we raised over $2,000. I was ecstatic, hard to contain. Triumphant, face-distorting smiles, and shouts of joy. I was so happy to be a part of this, and I’m glad the show ended with smiles on my friends’ faces. If anything stressed me out about the show the last few days, and the last few weeks, it was so far away in the rear view mirror–that, that… I don’t know! We were flying down this road and the white dashes mixed with the blacktop and became a gray blur.

So I packed my tote bag, Skyy Vodka, lime juice, shaker, ice, and martini glass, and arrived at an after party. And the drinks were good and the conversation kicked ass–“Come on Eileen” was played–and I struggle to finds the words to describe this moment but I must…Because well, there was a moment where most of my friends and acquaintances were just topless and free and I realized this is me. This energy, what it stands for, I love it, and I love them.