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Hipstercrite Life

Hipstercrite Life, Pop Culture

Why I Can’t Focus on Anything But the Fight

Since Donald Trump’s inauguration, I’ve had difficulty finding words.

Words are my job, but when I sit down to my computer, all I want to write is FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK over and over.

In fact, I do write FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK over and over, but then I delete it, and I stare at an empty computer screen.

Right now nothing feels as important to me than writing about what is currently happening in America, and even then, I cannot construct a sentence that adequately conveys my anger and fear.

Every morning I have to fight the urge to not throw away my work — I’m a freelance copywriter who also has a blog and is working on a book proposal and screenplay — to become a professional activist. I’m only grounded when I remind myself that I need to make money in order to survive.

Many of my friends in writing and film have said the same thing: Making art not pertaining to what is going (more…)

Hipstercrite Life

To the Woman at the Diner, I Saw You

diner

I saw you walk into the diner with your husband.

Your back tired from years of living; your face pointed to the ground.

I saw you walk into the diner and I thought to myself I don’t want to get old.

I don’t want to sit across from my love and sit in silence because I cannot hear, I cannot see.

I saw the cataracts floating in your quiet eyes.

I saw your knuckles rising like mountains through the terrain of your hands.

I saw the permanent scowl you never asked for.

I daydreamed about your life, your marriage, about the emptiness you might feel right now.

I watched you from over my love’s shoulder, sitting in silence, staring at the table, lost in your own thoughts.

I also watched as you picked up your straw and blew the wrapper into your husband’s face.

And I watched as you clapped your hands and laughed until tears formed in your no longer quiet eyes.

Hipstercrite Life

The End of the Year Seems Like a Good Time to Let Go of the Rage

leo-animal-savannah-lioness-55814

I try to be a nice person.

When discussing controversial topics, such as the 2016 election, I ask questions so I can hear all sides of view.

I never say “F you!” to anyone, online or IRL.

When I don’t agree with someone, I smile, I listen and I try to understand.

All this means that I have a lot of mother-fucking rage built up.

After 12 months of trying to be a wholly empathetic person, it finally caught up with me, and now I’m going to release all my rage in this blog post.


To my fellow people on the left: Stop fucking attacking each other. We have bigger fish to fry than lambasting folks on our own side. You know how the right calls us delicate snowflakes and shit like that? It’s because we’re triggered by every goddamn thing and go on the offensive like it’s our job. Fighting for human rights IS our job; being a jerky-dick is not. When a fellow leftie criticizes the Democratic party, and any leader it, it doesn’t mean they’re a Trump-loving racist (more…)

Hipstercrite Life, Thirty-something

Your Mother, Wife or Daughter Has Experienced Harassment or Assault

pexels-photo-112327-large

Inspired by Kelly Oxford’s tweet, I asked my friends and family to share their stories of assault. I was not prepared for the answers I received.

In order to protect the identity of those who were brave enough to share their stories on my Facebook status, I will not share their comments, but I will tell you that within a few hours of asking my peers if they’ve experienced sexual harassment or assault, 50 women responded.

These 50 women wrote of being raped by loved ones, people they trusted.

They wrote of being groped by medical professionals or bosses.

They wrote of having their breasts grabbed or their vaginas or buttholes fingered by friends at school or strangers at a bar.

They wrote of being harassed “too many times to count.”

A few women shared their stories for the first time.

Some shared their stories with me privately.

The stories came from women ages 20 to 70, and they were all difficult to read. However, their responses reconfirmed several truths including (more…)

Hipstercrite Life, Writing

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This newsletter will contain:
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Hipstercrite Life, Travel

How Traveling the U.S. Made Me F’ing Love Our National Parks

I must admit: Up until this year I didn’t think much about our national parks.

As a person who appreciates nature, but often stays clear of destinations that draws large crowds, the national parks fell roughly between “meeting Danny DeVito” and “petting a sloth” on my bucket list. (Meaning “nice-to-haves,” not “must-haves.”)

That all changed this summer when a I traveled 5500 miles by car across the great United States of America simply because I’m terrified of flying. And when I say terrified, I mean the last time I took a flight — 3 years ago — I had:

  • Two Xanax
  • Three cocktails
  • One activity tracker that kept telling me my heart rate was over 200 beats per minute.
  • The realization that I was not going to die because of a plane crash but because of a massive heart attack.

Ever since that day, I swore off flying and have strictly traveled by car or train. (You can read about my train travels here.)

So when my mother, a citizen of New York, (more…)

Hipstercrite Life

In All the Ways I’ve Become a Crazy Cat Lady

fatface

You see, I’ve never owned a cat before this one.

I never even thought about cats.

Dogs seemed like the only sensible companion to humans.

They need us, we need them and we find mutual enjoyment out of one another.

Cats on the other hand, they didn’t seem to fit that mold.

They’re aloof, cold, dangerous when claws exposed.

Of course there are the “dog-like” cats, but why not just get a dog then?

I realized how wrong I was when she came into my life.

She being FatFace, a 5-pound adult feral with three teeth, a bruiser face and a heart made of cotton candy and Nicholas Sparks books.

Over the course of a year, this orange street cat went from looking at human beings with extreme terror and skepticism to now rubbing her face up against mine and sleeping on my chest nightly.

Watching FatFace transform from a malnourished wilding to a happy snuggler has filled my heart with so much joy, sometimes I feel like throwing up. I’m in love, and I’ve quickly spiraled into the malady (more…)

Austin, Hipstercrite Life

I’ll be Speaking at the Texas Conference for Women 2016!

Texas Conference for Women

Hey, y’all! I just got back from a super insane 18-day trip through 19 states, 10 national parks and several inadequate gas station bathrooms, and I hope to write a post about it soon.

In the meantime, I’m really excited to share that I will be speaking at the Texas Conference for Women!

I’m not a main speaker, like Ol’ Fancy-Pants-Amal Clooney, but I’ll be part of the social media roundtable where different women in social media, branding and marketing will host an informal discussion about their respective fields. I will be talking about blogging! The social media roundtable is from 3-4:30PM (Nov. 15th).

I’m really excited to be a part of the Texas Conference for Women as I’ve been an attendee for the past two years and have always found the event incredibly inspiring. Please let me know if you are coming! I’d love to see you!

Texas Conference for Women
November, 15, 2016
Austin Convention Center
Register here.

 

 

 

 

Hipstercrite Life

On Understanding White Privilege

black lives matter

Baby girl, I’ve been seeing this for decades. You stop thinking about. You just pray for the people left behind. You’re just seeing it now. I love you, but you were born on this side of the track, and you’re now on the track peeking over to the other side. Now you’re getting mad with us, and that’s what we need.” –Tyrone, 62, black, homeless, a victim of police brutality, my friend, after asking him how he felt about the deaths of Alton Sterling and Philando Castile

When I was a very little girl, I heard about Rodney King on the news; I was sad, I was angry, but I did not understand. As an adult, when I heard about Trayvon Martin being killed, I was sad and angry, but I did not understand. When Michael Brown was killed, I was sad and angry, but I did not understand. When Tamir Rice was killed, when Eric Garner was killed, when Freddie Gray was killed, I was sad and angry, but I did not understand. When Sandra Bland, who was killed on this very day in 2015, I was sad and I was angry, (more…)

Hipstercrite Life

We’re Excited to Announce an Addition to the Family!

 

My little feral buddy Fatface. After three years of knowing him, he finally lets me scratch his back. And yes, that is food all over his face. #catsofinstagram

Sorry, Mom. This womb is currently barren.

WE GOT A CAT!

I’ve officially become Adult With Cat. (I’ve never had a cat before; I’ve always been a dog gal.)

But she’s not any ol’ cat.

Let me share with you the story of how FatFace and I found each other.

This is FatFace:

She’s a feral and has lived on our block for at least five years.

She was part of a feral colony my neighbor took care of, and which I’ve subsequently taken over after my neighbor moved across town.

I enjoy our cat colony, which totals between 10-12 mostly black or Russian blue cats, but let me tell you something about taking care of cat colonies: Don’t publicly share that info at parties. One time I was at a networking event and met a handful of interesting people and had to stop this sentence from coming out of my mouth: “Oh, man. I have to get going! My cat colony is going to be piiiiised if I don’t get home soon for feed time.”

(Side note: Though I now do the feeding, my former (more…)