6 Important Car Safety Tips To Remember Every Day

Car safety is one of the top priority for parents when they’re carting their children around town and even when their kids become old enough to drive themselves. It is important for parents to be completely aware and undistracted on the road. In today’s fast-paced society, it’s far too…

How To Help A Friend Who Is an Addict

One of the most devastating things that can happen to any family is substance abuse in any form. Anything in excess is never good for anyone. That could be anything from too much food, exercise, alcohol or even shopping. Addictive behaviors can turn relationships upside down for those who…



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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