Derek Cianfrance, Thanks for Ruining/Improving My Life

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Director Derek Cianfrance’s movies will make you want to curl into your little middle class hovel and die. But in a really poetic and beautiful way. I should know– In the past two weeks I’ve seen both “The Place Beyond the Pines” and “Blue Valentine”. Consider me an official Cianfrance fan now to an almost obsessive point. 

I am enamored with the middle and working classes. Whether it’s because I grew up that way or still find myself that way… I don’t know. I just find those stories to be the most compelling– perhaps because the middle class is rarely the subject of TV or movies. And please, if you think the successful and wealthy families like those of Modern Family are middle class, than your idea of class is completely misconstrued. But it’s not your fault, the days of The Honeymooners’ Bensonhurst seem to be far gone. Perhaps the closest we can get is King of Queens, but still very little talks of money. Unlike the real middle class of America, for whom money is a daily thought, struggle, and conversation. It’s what keeps them up at night, it’s what makes them feel safe or unsafe. 

And you must be thinking… of course there aren’t many media depictions of this lifestyle, we’re all living it! And it’s true. Who wants to sit around watching what they live everyday, especially when what they live is so painful.

I’ll tell you who, this kid right here. Maybe I am sadistic, but when done right, as Cianfrance’s movies are, you’re connected deeply and emotionally to his characters and understand them even when they aren’t their best or try their hardest. His families are not those that overcome great obstacles but rather live with them or sadly, succumb to them. These are your friends, your family.

And yes, they will make you take a hard long look at your life and linger for days. You’ll see your own pain– nasty relationships, a career you don’t want, kids you didn’t expect– rolling in front of you. How can you change your life in ways that they can’t? Can you? Are you able? It will torment and it will drive you crazy to think that maybe your dreams are really just that– dreams.

And the cold hard reality is that your middle-class. Raised to believe you can overcome it all but never supported. Born to dream a little dream but with too much fear to try and reach for it. 

If I haven’t completely ruined your day, I suggest you see both of these movies. They really are very compelling and telling and create a whole new take on storytelling. 

Guest Blog: Covering the BIG 3: Politics, Religion and… Gay Easter Weddings

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I was so happily surprised when I received the following piece from my friend Andrew Heist. Andy and I graduated high school together and somehow have managed to remain friends. I say somehow not because of distance or different schools or jobs, but because I identify as a Democrat and Andy is a Republican. I know, right?

I love this piece, as you will see for obvious reasons, but also because I think it shows a part of me I don’t always express. I have conservative friends (and family) and I accept all people in my life as long as they are respectful and deep thinkers. Ain’t nobody got time for half-cooked ideas. I tend to rant and rave on here like a liberal lunatic so I think it’s good for the general population to know that.

And so without further distraction…. I bring you Andy’s Easter/Gay Marriage Piece.

 

This weekend is Easter Sunday, the single greatest holiday of Christianity. This is the celebration of Christ dying for our sins. Which we will revisit.
 
After a good week of “talking” (you guys just posted photos, that isn’t discourse) about Gay Marriage, I would like to come out as a Conservative Republican who attends church on the reg. That would make me a member of the “Christian Right” which as I have gathered, is quite hated among most of you. However, while “we” are portrayed a certain way, I am actually educated (BA Economics), well versed in the Bible (20 years of reading), think with actual logic, and if you haven’t dismissed me for being conservative yet, please continue.
 
For those of you using Bible verses. Stop. My friends on the right quoting Leviticus, you are correct that those are actual verses. It says a man should not lay with a man. Good job finding that on the internet. My friends on the left, you are also correct when you point out that Leviticus also bans other ridiculous things such as wearing blended fibers and having tattoos (My shirt right now is blended cotton and I have two tattoos…my bad). These are actual religious laws that were written in the Old Testament. The historic reasoning for some of those religious laws is actually sound, oddly enough. And these would be great if this was 5,000 years ago. Back when God would smite civilizations for drinking from the wrong river.
 
Here’s where it gets fun. If you’ve ever seen a play, you know that there is an Intermission. This is the break where you go to the bathroom, grab drinks, and head back to your seat. Go see Jersey Boys by the way, the Intermission is the worst part, stops the show. Anyway. When it comes to quoting the Bible in this debate, everyone appears to have gone to the bathroom, gotten their drink, and gone home. There is an entire second act. Namely, the New Testament.
 
The first four books of the New Testament are called The Gospel. I’ll leave out the preachy part for my atheist friends. This is where Jesus was born, then showed up in a Temple when he was around 12 (maybe like 20?), then showed up as The Man. One thing that he said right before a stoning was “Let he who is without sin, cast the first stone.” Hold onto that, we’ll refer back later. He performed miracles, walked around on water, got betrayed, was brutally murdered (crucified), descended into Hell (I get it for some of you, Hell doesn’t exist), rose again, and then ascended into Heaven (I get it again, you guys, leave it alone) Anyway, before that, Jesus said, “I am the way, the truth, and the light, nobody gets to the Father except through me.” This was when God became a forgiver, and not a destroyer. This was the new covenant.
 
When I say the new covenant, I mean that the old covenants were written in the Old Testament, refer to Abram (Abraham) and Moses. Each covenant is “over-ridden” by the next. Which means, the New Covenant (Jesus) is our current. Unless I am wrong and my friends who are Reverends will correct me. This means, while we may refer to the laws in the Old Testament, they are just that, old. The death of Jesus was the forgiveness of our sins. Which means, even if you consider a Gay man a sinner, he is also a forgiven sinner. Just like you, who cursed or lied at some point TODAY, is a sinner. Cast that stone. I fucking dare you. Oh wait…you can’t. Also, I just swore. I’m a sinner, if even to prove a point.
 
So now that we covered the Bible, let’s talk America. In my opinion this is the greatest country ever. It’s my opinion, deal with it. Hippie. (I lived in a commune for two months so I can call whoever I want a hippie.) Anyway, we have a constitution and amendments to said constitution. In my opinion, the two amendments in play in this debate are the 10th and 14th. I know you just wiki’d those so you can’t get mad when I say you didn’t know those amendments. 
 
Anyway, The 10th basically says anything not mentioned in the constitution is left to the states (this is my favorite of the amendments by the way). The 14th basically says you cannot cannot make a law denying privileges that others enjoy (lawyer friends, feel free to roast me). So buckle up, here comes the opinion of someone who is firmly religious and kind of an Originalist with the Constitution.
 
Marriage was never defined in the Constitution, so some states decided that you could marry who you wanted (10th). Some people got pissed because some people are like that, you can never please everyone. Guess what? Now the 14th comes into play, because a right that is extended to some citizens is not extended to others. This amendment, under the Equal Protection Clause, decided Brown V. Board of Education and I hope it decides this decision as well. 
 
The government should never have been involved in marriage to begin with. Honestly. In my opinion they come too close to anyone’s home by licensing the union of two people. However, if they must intrude, which they always do, intrude on everyone. Give everyone the same benefits. We were founded on the principle of freedom for all and I’ll be damned (swore again) if we do not live up to it.
 
So yes, as a Conservative Republican, I support Gay Marriage. I support it because Jesus forgives everyone (even Westboro Baptist…..sigh) and because the government should not deny anyone of any right. So get married, live your life, raise some kids to think for themselves. It is your right, and I honestly do not give a damn (swore again) about what you do with the life you want to lead. 
 
I am still a Republican and will continue to be. I am a Republican because I believe everyone deserves the right to live their life with minimal government intrusion. 

 

In Defense of Meal-Prep

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I did it. I starting meal-prepping this week. After months of telling myself I would. I finally made the time.

I’ll be upfront. It does make for an intense Sunday night. I was chopping up vegetables while baking the biggest chicken breasts I had ever seen. I was working up a sweat just so I could prevent myself from being lazy and going out for $12 salad for lunch. Or snacking on sugary trail mix at work. But I gave it a whirl and it turns out… I really LOVED it.

It took me about an hour to an hour and a half to prep meals for the entire week. I was nervous that I would get sick of eating the same thing for lunch everyday, but really, a well-seasoned chicken breast with asparagus or green beans doesn’t get that old.

Plus, a good tip is to eat something different for dinner and take the time to cook something healthy. That will make lunch seem less tedious. I also tried to put myself in the mindset that the food was helping me recover from my morning workout and that it was fueling me for the day. Thinking it as a helper to my health and not just immediate pleasure got me through to Friday.

It seems weird saying this, because it’s only been a week, but I already see a difference in my body. I feel slimmer and have better energy. Everything just feels good and I didn’t have to spend any $ on lunch this week! I had everything with me everyday. Including my snacks.

So what did I eat most of this week at work? Take a look…

Breakfast:
GFree Oatmeal with 2 tbps peanut butter, almonds, cinnamon and soy milk

Mid-Morning Snack:
Kind Bar

Lunch:
Chicken Breast
Asparagus
Hard boiled egg

Afternoon Snack
Greek Yogurt
Almonds

I got my sweet tooth out on those Kind Bars as they are a good source of protein and only have 5g of sugar. (Note: not all the bars have 5g of sugar, so check the box!)

Ok, so this was my first blog on fitness on here? Trying to mix it up from my rants and raves about women and politics. Thoughts?

Why Can’t People Stop Hating Miley Cyrus?

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Let me just say that I can’t believe it either. I am actually writing a blog post where I, Amanda Kusek, will defend Miley Cyrus. And let me tell you why: I am so over slut-shaming and how we as a nation pick our whores and our queens. 

I recently bought the newest Cosmpolitan magazine, something I haven’t done for years, because Cyrus looks so powerful, beautiful, and sexy on the cover. I also still had this, now famous, Instagram graphic on my mind:

Image

http://instagram.com/p/TMi-Izuc41/

Not that I think calling Taylor Swift a slut is okay either, but it does make a very good point. Why is someone who is completely committed to someone they love, and a someone they are going to marry, a “slut”. And someone who is dating every dude in Hollywood “elegant” and “classic?”

This is almost textbook but it’s important to lay out. Cyrus wears “tough” clothing reserved for bikers and rebels. Leather, chains, and studs. Swift frequently dawns virginal white–evoking the image of a bride. Swifts classic blonde locks and simplified make-up also appear innocent against Cyrus’ heavy liner and new short-cropped ‘do. Cyrus says fuck, Swift most definitely does not. One is textbook American femininity and the other is not.

Swift makes us feel safe, Cyrus makes us uncomfortable. 

Abbey Stone makes a similar comparison in her article “In Defense of Miley Cyrus“. This time positing Cyrus against Disney Princess Selena Gomez. Stone drives it home with this:

“The difference between Cyrus and Gomez, I’ve decided, is the way in which they carry themselves. While Gomez punctuates her flirtations with a coquettish question mark, Cyrus isn’t afraid to make declarative statements. Gomez is coy, while Cyrus is confident.”

So women like Swift can date as many men as they want as long as they play it off like a doll, giggling and gossiping like a 12 year old after they break-up. You can be sexy and agressive as long as you are doing it for the pleasures of men and artistic photographers. But you can forget it if you are truly sexy and aggressive and aren’t looking to please anyone but yourself. 

We are a country that is so terrified of women making any sort of decisions for themselves. Hillary Clinton makes a political statement and we are compelled to talk about her pantsuits. Miley Cyrus says “fuck” and pierces her nose and we’re terrified she’ll ruin our precious daughters. Never mind that those daughters go to schools everyday where they are judged, bullied, sometimes beaten for not meeting Swift-like standards. 

As much as Swift would like us to believe otherwise, she is the cheerleader that many of us will never be or want to be. Cyrus, talented or not, is a badass chick who is true to herself. And that’s hard to do coming straight outta Disney.

I’ve learned to love Miley Cyrus… now what’s your excuse?

 

Sluts n’ Whores: Why Victims are to Blame

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Two weeks ago I posted my most visited article about the Steubenville Rape Case that is unfolding. In it I question the town, the actions of young boys, and the treatment of rape victims. Surrounding this case is a culture that protects rapists and blames victims. One teaches tells girls to stay inside rather than teaching boys not to rape. I read The Atlantic’s article on the new movie ‘Lovelace’  and how it has the potential to bring a real conversation about rape culture to the forefront of our minds, lives, and country. It’s author, Carolyn Bronstein, does an excellent job discussing rape culture and what it means to live in one:

“We live in a society where females are treated as sexual objects and sexual violence is common. Rape is accepted as a fact of life for girls and women, a nuisance that simply won’t go away.”

Why DO we accept rape as something inevitable? Why is it that women “just can’t be alone at night” or “just can’t wear revealing clothing”? The sentence above utterly stunned me and I realized that despite my best efforts to be a feminist, to stand for what I think is right, and to speak out and up about rape and assaults, I’ve really just been a pawn myself.

As a victim of two subway assaults, I should be particularly concerned, shouldn’t I?  But just this week I pinned the following image on my Pinterest board titled ‘Hilarious’:

NsfjGAf

This is what rape culture looks like. I am a well-educated, working woman, who has been victimized more than once in her past. This image is of a beautiful, young girl making the point that she can be cute and a geek too. What does rape culture do? Turns it around, calls her a whore, and then I chuckle and re-post.

It’s terrifying when you think about it, isn’t it? The definition in a dictionary is quite concise, “A prostitute.” So, why is this girl, having some fun, called out as someone who sleeps around for money? Why does a picture of her face (no revealing clothes, no heavy make-up) drive someone to think about her private sexual life? It’s the same entitlement and safety that a man on the subway felt he had to grab me because I made room for him my car and the same entitlement and safety the boys in Ohio feel.

It’s her fault for posting a picture of herself (she was asking for it), it was my fault for being nice to a stranger (I was asking for it), and it was the victim out their in Ohio’s fault because she was drinking.

Rape Culture is an interesting, eye-opening thing to read about, and I suggest you do. You’ll realize things in your everyday life that are just not right. Things that you do.

Free to be Gluten-Free

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I just have to address everyone trash talking GFree diets out there. Listen, I get it, you hate fads because you are so hip and so, so cool. Carbs are important to a diet and I completely, 100% agree with you. Are gluten-free bagels just as bad for you as gluten-filled bagels? Yeah, sure. I’ll agree with you. And just one last question, are tons of people jumping on the bandwagon? YES, yes they are but I can tell you, as a diagnosed Celiac…
 

I am so freaking excited! Honestly, I could care less that people are eating a diet that they don’t necessarily need to. I don’t really mind that they are missing out on carbs or are screwing up their diets– that’s their choice. But do you know what this means for those of us who are actually sick? Do know how amazing it is to have a trendy disease?!

 

I can have bagels. I can have bread. And now, by the graces of some pastry god, I can have DUNKIN DONUTS. Goddamn, donuts. I could weep with joy. Are they still donuts? Will they not still give me love handles? Yes. Yes. They are awful and delicious and now for the first time in a year, I may be graced once again with a Dunkin Donut.

 

I really don’t think it’s any of your business what people eat unless you are their nutritionist and they have hired you to get up in their life. It’s nice that you sat down and read a diet blog and just want to disagree with everything they say because hey, you have a blog and you’re cranky and you’re cat just stopped talking to you. I get that, sure.

 

But seriously, no one cares and the Celiacs are just standing there like this:
God Bless this country and it’s love-hate relationship with carbs and sugars. I can eat again. Celiacs! Raise your forks!

Steubenville, Ohio Rape Case

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When I read the news, two things happen: I feel more educated and I start to fear other humans. I start to think that I can’t trust anyone anymore and that people inherently hate, not inherently love. The more I read about subway pushers, and rapists, and politicians who don’t want to do anything, I get sad and I lose hope.

The most recent soul-crushing story I learned about this week is the rape case in Steubenville, Ohio. If you haven’t read it yet, there is a very detailed article here, from The New York Times. 

I don’t want to talk about the specifics of this case: when she was naked, what happened to her, what the photos depict. I want to focus on the reactions of her town. Of course, everyone is innocent until proven guilty… that is an important part of our country’s legal system and keeps us (somewhat) safe. 

But whatever the verdict, guilty or not guilty, this poor 16-year-old girl will still have to live with this for the rest of her life. She woke up naked in a strange place, had to see disgusting pictures of her own naked body to understand what had happened to her the night before and is now being ostracized by not only her town, but her closest friends. 

From nytimes.com: “The girl’s friends have ostracized her, and parents have kept their children away from her, the mother said.”

Are you fucking kidding me? Yes, she is what we should be terrified of, not the fact that their kids witnessed her abuse and said nothing, or that they will all continue to attend football games, or that something is wrong with a culture where young boys and girls think that it is always the “drunk slut’s” fault and not the assailants. Or not even QUESTION it. At least raise them to analyze and form an opinion.

The kids who witnessed the behavior almost scare me more than those who performed the heinous deeds. Direct Twitter account quotes: “Some people deserve to be peed on #whoareyou” & “Song of the night is definitely Rape Me by Nirvana” (and if you can stomach it you can read the rest here.) 

I’m so sick and tired of people blaming the victim. It makes my head want to explode with stupidity. Sure, you should protect yourself, not drink too much, etc. but making mistakes, especially at 16, never means you DESERVE to be abused or raped. Like all of these people have never made mistakes in their lives. Like those parents never went out and got wasted. But I guess in the eyes of the adults out their in Steuby-ville, being an amateur drinker warrants rape. I totally see it.

Of course, not only has everyone close to her completely bailed on her but the goddamn lawyers (thanks guys) are trying to pull in her PAST behavior online into questioning. From NYTimes.com, Walter Madison, Richmond’s lawyer, says:

“…that online photographs and posts could ultimately be “a gift” for his client’s case because the girl, before that night in August, had posted provocative comments and photographs on her Twitter page over time. He added that those online posts demonstrated that she was sexually active and showed that she was “clearly engaged in at-risk behavior.”

Your fucking shitting me right, guys? So, because she had sex before, and took sexy photos of herself, it means that anyone can have sex with her, right? Kind of like, if someone leaves their car unlocked, it’s ok for me to take it? I’ll keep that in mind. 

This case is so Gender Studies 101, I can’t even control myself. It seems that the little boys in Steubenville (and pretty much everywhere else) are taught that once they are “worth” something they can take whatever they want without penalty (football, Wall Street…) and little girls are taught to be desirable but not “ask for it” and they are only “worth” something if boys love them. (Every romantic comedy ever.)

The only good that has come out of this case is the Occupy Steubenville movement and country-wide support this poor girl has received from her larger, human, community. Images and stories of their rally in Ohio yesterday can be found here. And I can only hope that by a public outcry, more will be considered and researched in this case.

However, I won’t get my hopes up because here is the explanation of why Coach Saccoccia didn’t punish the players who shared the photos: “[the players] said they did not think they had done anything wrong. Because of that, he said, he had no basis for benching those players.” Mentoring 101 right there, guys.

On Love and Sandy Hook

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This week Sandy Hook made me think about love. It’s often used in advertising, in text messages, and even sometimes, gloriously, in person, but its meaning fluctuates as we try to define it. “Affection” and “tenderness” pop up in the dictionary definition but then goes on to define affection as “a moderate feeling.” Clearly even those official definitions are missing out on the passion, desire, care, and selflessness that we know to be true of love. So how do we define it? How do we know that one person’s definition meets our own? As Haddaway once sang in clubs all across the land, “What is love? Oh baby don’t hurt me. Don’t hurt me. No more.” 
 
Is love really just a lack of pain or hate as Haddaway suggests? The same way black is not really its own color but the absence of color? Hate is certainly easier to define, easier to feel, easier to act upon than love. And it seems a great act of hate is what it takes to make us feel love. Or at least, display it.
 
I have recently reintroduced love into my life and while I feel more open and vulnerable than I have in years–Sandy Hook is the first time in many years I felt honest empathy–it has left me feeling sad, scared, and questioning my own species. Not only that, but I am terrified by what I feel as well.
 
Empathy is hard when you even avoid your own tragic events. I’ve been known to stare at death, accidents, and sadness like a deer in headlights, stunned by it all. And then I just keep galloping along because I honestly believe that if I run through it, and past it, then it never really touched me. It never really happened. To those of you who have been emotionally educated your whole lives, this seems unhealthy, horrifying, and also terribly sad. While it does not always serve me well (guilt and memories haunt me at times) it has given me a certain resilience of which I am most proud. 
 
But, still, because of this I’ve always carried around a sort of self-loathing, a worry that something was always going to go horribly wrong. I lived in fear of mistakes, knowing I would have work past them… rather than learning from the ones I had made. I was very hard on myself when I felt. For so long, and sometimes even now, I let bad be good. Like I was Joe Cool of not giving a shit. I loved feeling awful and loved even more to feel sorry for myself. I still struggle with this…
 
Does this all sound familiar? It’s because I am hardly alone. We’re a country of the self-destructive. Horrible relationships, drinking, smoking, needles, fatty processed foods. We reward 2 hours at the gym with fatty burgers and fries, we drink ourselves senseless when we get into Grad School. Our television and movie programs glorify painful, complicated, sometimes dangerous relationships as “romantic.” It is no surprise that we hurt and hate ourselves and others. We’re programmed to be unhappy so we can feel great highs. 
 
The love I had for myself and for my failed relationships was tumultuous and dangerous. I remember how long it took for me to adjust to Jeff. We were steady and I was happy. There were no extreme highs crashing into extreme lows. I was confused to find that I didn’t blame myself for everything that went wrong, that I wasn’t crying for forgiveness. Loving myself and letting myself be loved, quieted all that inner noise. It’s interesting that the most cliched sayings keep coming to mind: “You must first love yourself before you can love others.” While I hate to use it and even read it, it does carry a certain shred of truth.
 
If we could maybe stop treating ourselves like shit and then turning around and feeling bad for ourselves for it, we could stop being afraid to love one another and ignoring each other so “we don’t seem to eager” or believing that the ones that hurt us are just “passionate.”
 
If Sandy Hook taught us anything, it’s that we need to love right and we need to love right now. 

 

Back from Nowhere

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I took a hiatus thinking that I would change this website into my portfolio. I actually did design the whole new site, complete with clips and clients and everything you would need to hire me freelance. But I never made the swap, something always got in the way or I decided it wasn’t the best idea…And those weeks passed. And months passed. And I got a new job, and I got overwhelmed and then I found myself in December, turning 25.

I have now realized that I didn’t pull the trigger because my writing isn’t about getting paid. I want to write about what I want to write about. And if I can’t support myself on that, or if there is no market for it, then so be it. That’s what my day job is for and as it turns out, I’m actually pretty good at that too. 

My whole life I have spent my time trying to find the one thing I am good at doing. The one thing I can define myself by, a title, a position, a genre, a subject… It felt like I was surrounded by people who knew what they wanted and how to get it.

I was on the island of “Catch-All” by myself. I once played the clarinet, but quit. Played a sport or two but was never a star. I’ve always written but never won any awards, never published somewhere really glamorous. I am partly good at a hundred things, rather than being wholly amazing at one thing. It’s not being well-rounded, it’s being spread too thin.

Maybe I am just too passionate about too much. I like to explore and move on to the next, the newest, the brightest. My loyalties to products and colors and brands change daily. Ask anyone– I’d never buy the same shirt in two colors. 

I don’t have a thing, a theme, a brand…not quite yet. But I do know that writing whatever the hell I want on here, and sometimes getting positive feedback from others, makes me happy.

So here I am again.

Not That Cool

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I’m not really as cool as I look. Not in a dark shades kind of way but the pressure kind of way. I tend to come off as pretty nonchalant, pretty easy going, pretty fun, and generally a blast to be around. I come off as someone who doesn’t care if they’re blown off “Hey, your shit happens,” and will sometimes laugh when someone has a good cat call “I wish I was a dog so you could walk me.”

I’ll listen to all your problems, nod my head, even, sometimes, give great advice. I hate that you hate yourself and try and teach you to love yourself, this city, this world. I’m a cheerleader for the good. I can laugh it off when something is bothering me and even turn it into an amazing joke days later. An artful stand-up routine because what hurts one person will most likely make another laugh. This isn’t a new comedy…  Let’s take what we hate and make it funny. Then it isn’t so scary anymore. Pretty standard material. You know when your chest is empty but heavy and you just want to yawn because you hate everything so much? I don’t know if it’s easier to let my chest cave-in in a sea of yawns or blow it up with humor.

I learned recently (not read, or heard, or knew) but really learned recently… that honesty really is important to writing. It really is a fuel and makes what you say that much more enjoyable. So I am being honest. I really do hate most things, and love to hate them, and love to make you laugh at my hate, but I usually hate things because they make me feel bad. Whether they make me feel inadequate or lonely or stupid or too female or too male. 

My feeling bad does not equal you feeling bad. I’m just trying something new. (I tried really hard to not put a disclaimer here. I think I got it around it, but barely.)

I’m not as cool as I look and you can ask any boyfriend, present or past, and they’ll tell you just how insecure I am. Soldiers who took my happy bait and then realized how much more work I actually was. I’m a lot of work. I’m tiring. I found someone who doesn’t get tired… but I’m still afraid one day I’ll break my character for too long or take it too far and he’ll start to doze. I’m also afraid I’ll slip him sleeping pills one day, just to watch him drift away from me. I like that sometimes. I know… it’s not very cool.

I’m scared most days. That I’m not trying hard enough, that I am failing myself, and that I am failing all those kids in the 8th grade who took my autograph because I told them I was going to be famous. I was going to act on SNL and they were all going to laugh. That hasn’t happened yet… clearly. I’m scared that none of you love me and I work really hard to keep you around. All of you. I do everything wrong and you do everything right and that’s the world for me. All of you. If I miss something, I’m guilty. If you miss something, that’s okay. I’ll take the heat for you.

I’m not comfortable being vulnerable. But I do remember the times I was taken care of so vividly and they are some of my favorite stories. One time I was going through a bad break-up and going through men like water and laughing it off and telling you my stories and you all liked them. I was really trying to avoid the whole situation… but then one day Kyle force fed me because I had been too sad to eat. And I always remember this because he wasn’t looking for a thank you or to fulfill his “break-up conversation” quota for the day. He just really wanted me to eat and I didn’t have to ask.

So I ate a cafeteria omelette and made some more jokes. I still felt cool because Kyle was the only one who knew, in that moment, that I was very uncool. And he didn’t tell anyone. 

Now I’m telling everyone and I just blew my cover wide open.