Posts tagged ‘the south’
“Here’s the thing about rights. They’re not supposed to be voted on. That’s why they’re called rights.”
“What people do in their own homes is their business and you can choose to love whoever you love.That’s their business. It is no different than discriminating against blacks. It’s discrimination plain and simple.”
“I think President Obama is this generation’s Martin Luther Queen.”
There has been a lot of buzz in the media lately about gay marriage and civil rights. I never put too much thought into the subject because I always assumed that I would never get married. I always thought: “Where am I going to find a guy that is willing to deal with the difficulties that come along with being me? Binge drinking, sleeping late, and long vacations take their toll on a relationship.” The more I think about it though, the more it becomes apparent that laws against gay marriage say a lot more than: “You aren’t allowed to fall in love with some schmuck, then marry them, then get bored but realize too late that you have impregnated the sum-bitch, so you spend the rest of your 18 year marriage cheating indiscriminately on the side,” (at least that is the straight definition of marriage from what I understand). It says that we aren’t real people because we don’t deserve the same rights afforded other Americans.
I never really got that until now.
When I was growing up, being gay in the South meant something entirely different. You didn’t see gay people when you went out and about. You knew they existed, and they were tolerated, but you didn’t think of them as normal people. To this day, when I go back to my hometown with a boyfriend in tow, I find myself nervous about PDA and I shy away from wearing the clothes I normally wear (my sister murders me with her skinny jeans jokes). Does this make me a coward? Maybe. Acting and dressing a certain way became a method of self-preservation for me in the South, and old habits die hard.
What I have gained from living in New York for 5 years is that Read more…
I always think its funny when people discriminate against people because of where they are from. One of the first questions people ask someone when they meet them in New York is “Where are you from.” When you say “I live in the financial district” they ask “But where are you from originally” as if me admitting I am from the south will automatically make the hair on the back of my head grow 11 inches, 2 of my teeth fall out, 3 illegitimate babies fall out of my asshole and a lynching tree sprout up behind me. I only know about 2 people that are originally from New York City and do you know what? Its Read more…
1. The weather will be warm. I am going to lay out so much my skin is going to blacken and sizzle until I look like either Kobe Bryant or Kobe beef.
2. The guys aren’t as jaded. (although I am pretty sure by saying that it makes me jaded) So it will be really easy to have a mini-vacationship and break his heart whenever I leave him thinking my name is Catherine Aragon and I have to go back to my life of supermodeling and running a business designing home furnishings for Raymour and Flannigan. Seriously Cindy Crawford and Cathy Ireland–what do you know about leather sectionals besides how to do lines off one?