No doubt about it, littler me was a badass.
Here’s the scene: it’s the summer after my freshman year in high school, and I’m sitting at the desk in my bedroom thinking about my crush. I’m thinking about how much I like her. I’m thinking about what I can do about that. And from my thoughts springs the idea: I will write her to tell her how I feel. I grab a notepad (I have several) and a pen (confessions of love should never be written in pencil), and I get to work. I can’t just write a letter, I…
White people are no longer allowed to make movies.
At least, that’s what you might think after scrolling through Twitter or the comments section of entertainment industry publications in the past week.
Here’s what happened: last Tuesday, the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences announced new representation and inclusion standards concerning the Best Picture category at the Oscars. What this means is that the ten films vying for Hollywood’s highest honor need to meet certain standards if they wish to be eligible.
Predictably, people flipped.
There were those who screamed of unfairness, arguing that the Academy is just filling…
There’s nothing like watching a film in the theater.
There’s the buildup, the anticipation. You’ve got the drive, the line for concessions, the finding your seat, the quick trip to the bathroom before it starts, all of it just building up excitement for the actual feature. If you’re like me, you’ve also got the ten to fifteen minutes of ads from car companies and your local plastic surgeon. …
I’ve got a riddle for you.
A young man takes a picture with his boyfriend. He wants to post it on Instagram. What does he do?
Like most riddles, it’s trickier than you think. Can he post it? Sure. Will he post it? It’s just not that simple.
Yes, the young man is me. And to be frank, I would really like an answer. So let me bring you up to speed on a few things:
My mother always told me that the healthiest and most effective communication is done with a clear head and a thought-out point of view. And though sometimes this means not thinking of the perfect comeback until two days later while standing the shower, it always means that what comes out of my mouth is exactly what I mean to say.
There are a number of ways I’d like to express myself when it comes to how my stepfather treated my mother during the time they were together, and the subsequent years after their split when he continued to stalk her…
You’d think I would like the term love language.
For one, I’m a romantic through and through. When it comes to love, well, I love it. Discovering it, feeling it, giving it, trying to put it into words. As for language, it fascinates me. Its structures, its systems, its wild and arbitrary history. So put the two together and you’d think I’d be all about it.
But I’m not. Maybe because it’s become such a popular concept, and is used so liberally, that I’m hesitant to join the flock. Maybe because although it seems like an effective way of describing…
For the last fifteen years, something has been following me.
Somewhere in my head, there’s crept a voice. For a while, it was just nipping at my heels, but now it seems to have sunk its claws into the very foundation of what I think of myself. My worth. My confidence. It’s propagated ideas that affect every aspect of my life. Its favorites seem to be You don’t deserve it and They’re going to find out that you’re not lovable.
I’ve felt it for a long time. Recently, it’s been almost crippling. The thing is, I’m aware of certain things…