You ever walk into a party, and everyone just has this stank look on their face? It's as if they were forced to be there, and they can't believe you decided to show up looking all enthused. I have a complaint to make, and it may offend some, but I have to get it off my chest. I have given up on going to parties that are predominantly black. I'm done with the entire scene because the cliquey, hard exterior given off by the attendants at these events are a buzz kill to say the least. Stereotyping, and clumping groups of people together is never my goal. Of course, I have never partied with all of the black people in the world, but in NYC the scene is the same way every time. A room full of what should be, like-minded people partying, drinking and dancing. Unfortunately, it's like this uncomfortable environment where half of the people are dancing, and the other half are watching looking as if they wonder why you're dancing. Then you dread bumping into someo
Showing posts from April, 2013
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Here's how Urban Dictionary defines a " Hard Femme ": "Not to be mistaken with the typical femme, the "hard femme" describes herself as "queer", is political, looks more feminine than masculine, and if prompted, can kick some serious ass. She doesn't need to "wear the pants" in a relationship- the hard femme rules with a dress. She not only despises the gender binary, she works to dismantle it." Navigating the queer world can be difficult. As a whole we strive to eliminate labels and break stereotypes, but along the way we have only added to them. In the binary system of (cis)man and (cis)woman, there are also several subcategories, meant to only further define who we are as individuals. "The L Word" character Bette Porter (Jennifer Beals) a true Hard Femme For example, I could be considered many things: hard femme, stem(stud &femme), or a feminine aggressive . None of these things define who I a
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The two train to Flatbush avenue came pretty quick and I could only hope I’d find a seat. An older woman looked as if she’d be getting off soon so I stayed close. To the right of her was a homeless woman carrying all of her worldly possessions in plastic bags. She had a hunch and smelt like the city streets. We eyed one another thinking the same thought, we both wanted that seat. Soon the woman grabbed her bag to leave and I let the homeless woman have the seat. Two women next to her rose from their seats as she moved toward them, hit with her pungent odor. A seat opened up close by and we locked eyes again. She thanked me with a nod of the head and I smiled back. She rummaged through her bag as I stared down at her feet. She had no shoes and fastened old sandals together with old material. The flimsy bottoms barely measured up to her size. My mind raced and I considered handing her the shoes on my feet. I mentally sifted through my wallet searching for anything I could offer her.