Imaginame, en 2019, sentad@ en un sofá, en casa de algún güey de UMass, mientras una fiesta moría por mi alrededor. Solo vine a esta fiesta porque mi amiga de Smith era invitada por un chico de Tinder y quería apoyo. Ahora, estaba en el piso de arriba, chingandole, y yo sol@ en un sofá mientras la gente se abrazaba y pedía sus ubers pa’ casa. Solo los originales permanecieron: compañeros de casa y sus parejas escuchando Carrie Underwood y mirando la tortiller@ misterios@ en su sofa hetero de UMass. No quería dejarle a mi amiga, pero tampoco charlar con desconocidos cuando lo único que quería hacer era dormir.
Posts tagged as “H.H. Hills”
Martedi, io, una lesbica con circa venti anni, ho fatto mi prima ceretta brasiliana. Sono arrivata a questa decisione dopo tanto deliberazione - c'è “antifemminista” a ricevere una ceretta di bikini? A pagare qualcuno lacerare i miei capelli pubici, sto perpetuando le norme di bellezza eurocentrica e pedofila? Mi farà tanto male e me darà molti capelli incarniti? Ma alla fine ho deciso che una ceretta è una esperienza, ma provo qualsiasi cosa almeno una volta.
This Tuesday, I, a twenty-something lesbian, got my first brazilian wax. I reached this decision after a great deal of deliberation — is it “un-feminist” to get a bikini wax? By paying someone to tear out my pubic hair, am I perpetuating pedophilic Eurocentric beauty standards? Will it hurt a lot and just lead to me getting a bunch of ingrown hairs? But eventually I decided that getting waxed is an experience, and I’ll try anything once.
I am a junior at Smith College. As of now, on September 12, 2021 at 7:56 p.m., due all my friends being in relationships, I will be going on a hunger strike to protest not having a girlfriend at Smith College.
Fear no more. With these ten easy steps, you not only will have a night of revelry but you might just make some friends!
I may not be the best person to write about marriage. The thought of being officially committed to someone for the rest of my life makes me want to crawl out of my skin and I don’t think I’ll ever get married. Not because I’ve never been in love (although I haven’t), but because the institution of marriage horrifies me.
You don’t want to run into past hookups nightly while brushing your teeth or make uncomfortable small talk while waiting for your laundry and you most certainly don’t want to see, or God forbid hear, your ex’s current hookups. So why, in my sophomore year, did I break that cardinal rule?