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How Do I Choose the Best Professional Cleaning Service

Keeping your home clean can be an exhausting task, especially if you have to squeeze it in between the chaos and work and keeping your family in line. And if your life feels like it’s nothing but cleaning and tedious chores, perhaps it’s…

How to Keep Your Pool Clean Without Using Chemicals

The weather is getting hotter and hotter, and if you haven’t done it already, you are probably getting ready to open your pool and start the swimming season. Having a pool in your backyard is wonderful, but it requires quite some effort before you…

8 Ways to Make Food Shopping as a Parent More Bearable

No one is denying children aren’t the gift that keep on giving. But, as a parent, there are just some tasks in day to day adult life that shouldn’t be accompanied by kids. Namely the weekly food shop. Opening yourself up to a world of whining, potential tantrums and…

Back when I was a college freshman I took a trip with my main gay, J. My first time in the big city. I was more than excited and more than ready to take New York City by her cheeks and kiss her on the lips. Dressed as glamour machanics in matching grease monkey jumpsuits, painted makeup, red bandanas and silver lace up boots, we boarded the plane. On our first night there I learned never to trust anyone named Neko near your open nostrils (close call) and we met the most amazing drag queen I've ever met named Jaqueline who taught me how to properly eat a bagel with cream cheese. She shreiked as though being killed when she saw me get the butter knife out to spread the cheese. "Oh honey, no no no no no. Give that to me. Let me show you. Like a sandwich." I loved her. But mostly I learned that I was a brave girl. I ruled NYC for four days and five nights dressed as a psycho soccer baby or in my shimmering silver mini dress. I came home with not a single picture from that maiden voyage to the city I love. Not one. We were too busy eating up the scenery dressed in our finest club gear, slipping into club after club and pretending like we lived there. But what I did come home with was an electric blue see through polyurethane jacket. That I opened a credit card for. And spent way too much on. But when you are on Christopher St. for the first time in your life, it's magical. Between sex shops and shops about sex and peep shows and bondage stores, you just might discover a shop filled with polyurethane clothing (and cages) calling to your 21 year old self like a siren in the night.  That jacket was a dream. The jacket never really worked back in my home town. It was a city jacket. It was never meant for small town America. It was hot and made me sweat bullets everytime I put it on. It made an appearance at a few clubs but mostly it stayed in my closet as a reminder of four days in my life where I felt larger than life. The jacket has been lost for years. It lives only in my memory now. And when I think about it, it glows. I miss it. I have been trying to. I am taking baby steps....Keep reading

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