79. The Week in Me
HAPPY FIRST BIRTHDAY TO THIS BLOG!!!!!!
I started this blog A YEAR AGO. Can you believe?! I can not. It has brought me so many new friends, so much confidence in my words’ worth, and so much joy. I have done my best to be explosively honest, and you all have shown up to witness it. Thank you.
As a token of my thanks, I have reduced my paid subscriptions to just THIRTY DOLLARS A YEAR. That’s it! That’s the cost of like a movie ticket these days? I struggle with paywalling, but I do intend to introduce it to SOME specialized content here. The weekly should always, and I imagine will always, be free. Please by all means let me know what would entice you to become a paid subscriber?
With that, some of my favorite past posts!
My first ever post, which is very sad:
I've decided that Tom Wambsgans stans will be called Wamby Mombys.
Hello! If you’re reading this, you know why you’re here: I have started a newsletter. I don’t yet expect this to be a daily or even weekly emission - I suspect that I have created this to connect with my friends, lovers, and enemies about the shit I’m into, as a way to avoid logging onto social media to talk about it. Around 83 percent of my every wakin…
On the gay version of Ultimatum:
11. The best reality show you're not watching.
You know that scene in Elf where Michael tells Charlotte Dennon, New York One that what she wants for Christmas is “a Tiffany engagement ring and for her boyfriend to stop dragging his feet and commit already”?
Why I didn’t title this “Barkin’ for Arkin” is beyond me:
18. RIP Alan Arkin in which the “R” stands for (Redacted).
Just wanted to take a lil mo to pour one out (of my W.A.P.) for one of the people who shows up in a random movie or show and I scream “DADDY!” at, involuntarily. (This list also includes the guy who plays Trent Crimm, The Independent, who Matt had to ask me to stop talking about after I said I would “melt his face like I was wielding the Ark of the Cunt…
Lil emo bitch clocking in:
19. And I never will forget you, my American love.
The second time I met Brian Fallon, I had asked him to sign something else for me - not a setlist like the first but a lyric: “No retreat, no regrets.” I wanted to tattoo it to my scissored little wrists, one battle cry on the left, one on the right. Brian wrote it out in ribboncurl cursive on the front of my ticket, on one condition: that I never went …
Probably the juiciest post I have written:
23. The Fucking Drummer
NOW UPDATED with a playlist (available on Apple Music here) themed around this post: the unrequited, the used, the fed up, lend me your eards:
I want to write more lists. Give me your ideas!
35. Best Kisses
I love onscreen kisses. I collect them. I live through them. I have rarely achieved those same cinematic heights in my mencounters over the years. I find that in the world of kissing, the kiss rarely meets the expectation set by the mounting tension, the long glances, the lingering hugs. Our overactive imaginations.
Award show and Met Gala recaps! These are my FAVORITE to write!
Vanity Fair Oscar Party 2024 Fashion Recap
A LITERAL DOORKNOCKER BELT AND BIG HAIR AND LEATHER AND GLOVES AND A BEDAZZLED CANNOLI PURSE?!?!!?! SHOULD I SUE!?! SHE HAS IMPUGNED THE INTELLECTUAL PROPERTY OF MY OWN DAMN DNA.
58. Emmys Recap!
Now, we’ve all seen or heard how bad the Golden Globes speeches and upsets were, but, like many a drummer has thought about me, “damn, I want her back.” I was bored! The Emmys bored me! I was happy to see some deserved wins, like for Jennifer Coolidge on
56. Golden Globes Recap!
Hello! I’m not that confused Southern woman from the Vanity Fair/CBS/Paramount+??? Golden Globes red carpet, but I am here to bring you some bits and (great) bobs (I’m looking at you, Greta Lee!) from last night’s Golden Globes. I spent much of last night parked in
Another Met Gala fashion roundup in your inbox, but it’s a day later so it stands out from the others!
Absolutely fuck Karl Lagerfeld and his fatphobia and that Benjamin Franklin-ass ponytail, but looks were looked upon and I have dumb little things to say. Also, I have no idea if I will be doing this daily or weekly or less. You tell me? Thanks for rea…
My most-shared post:
Stella D'Oro Would Like A Word
I saw this tweet last night, nodded to myself, and opened a fresh new draft on this here website. Because no like are you out of your fuckass mind??
My most enjoyed, per text messages I received after:
He Must Be Stopped
This Monday, a Monday like any other (“working” from home, planning to “catch up” on the Real Housewives of Potomac aka play Candy Crush in between Candiace talking heads, being “dressed” aka wearing a size 4X band hoodie and underweards) I went on Twitter and saw something that made my pastafied Italian heart stop.
Another lil personal essay that resonated for some of y’all:
54. The Week in Me
Most importantly, as we trudge our way to the local European Wax Center to rip off the remaining figurative stubble of 2023, I need to know: I don’t know if I have a majestic list of resolutions to offer you. I have wants. I want my work to be published and I’d like to get paid for a piece. I want to hit at least 2,000 subscribers here. I would like to f…
And a TV recap - should I write more of these??
9. L to the OG (Acoustic)(Kendall’s Version)
Warning: Soylent green is people and here be spoilers. I had assumed that each speech presented on this week’s Succession, “Church and State,” would be a bombast of adoration that through each actor’s choices wou…
Thank you, thank you, thank you to all 2100 of you for reading. This blog has been, for the last two months or so, the only thing that has gotten me out of bed this morning.1 Seriously, across the last few heartbroken and trauma-infused weeks2, which have eradicated my home of tissues and landed me a likely CPTSD diagnosis from my notoriously anti-diagnostic therapist because of just how bad and scary it has been, this blog has been a comfort, a gratitude diary-cum-”You wanna hear a story about how me and this bitch here fell out?” gabfest. And it’s not just the last few weeks, losing trust and heart. I mourned the death of my high school best friend Maeve here. The year’s anniversary of the sudden, shocking lost of my best friend of a decade, the person I called my wife, whose name I had to remove from my will and my life insurance policy. Lugosi in the hospital. My Judaism butting heads against my unrelenting support of a free Palestine. Being laid off. Being broken.
Thank you all for seeing my through it, sending words of encouragement, texts with your favorite lines from these letters, Venmo payments just because I made you laugh. I don’t know how to thank you other than to keep writing.
And so I will.
To read:
Thank you to dear reader (and writer!)
for this lovely praise in the birthday edition of Big City, Little Friend:
Absolutely hollered in
’s DMs when I realized she was alluding to an upcoming interview with the fucking GIRTHMASTER. Here it is!
A needed meditation from
:
“And I want to encourage you to find points of connection where you can — don’t swallow down the poison of isolation, mistaking it for an antidote.“ -
saying shit I don’t want to hear but (ugh) must:To watch:
Shared by
:
AND IF YOU HAVEN’T SEEN THE ORIGINAL SKETCH:
From Lea:
From Sam lmao
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He seems nice!!!
This is literally just Simone:
(the world’s SLEEPIEST woman)
(being so beautiful is tiring, as effortless as she makes it look)
This is literally just Lugosi:
Actually my babies:
Various and sundry:
I love WINKY.
Thank you for subscribing to this Substack.
Can’t imagine someone not loving Celine Dion! Can’t imagine not being nourished by her joyful spirit! Couldn’t be me!!!
Babygirls RISE!!!!!
That this sweet little man does not let go of his little stuffed animal the entire time…do you mind if I cry?
YEAH.
Me and the chimpikins:
May you men learn how to FUCKING COMMUNICATE:
Love you bitches,
TG
That’s a lie, I write it in bed half the time.
Which, I know, I’m still a bit vague about. I experienced, to even start to explain, someone I trusted implicitly and they rewarded that scared little trust by manipulating me into my own abandonment because they’re a fucking two-faced Gemini caricature and a replete coward who doesn’t go to therapy, and is content to learn how to feel off the back of my own copays. There is nothing more that I want than to explain in 4K detail what happened, for my soul, but there is family watching. But I think y’all know what’s up. Maybe this will help:
Happy newsletter birthday (almost) birthday twin! Writing words on the internet truly is a great outlet and I'm wondering now why I never had a Livejournal when I lived through the prime Livejournal years.
Thanks for the journey through past highlights. That Best Kiss issue was fucking delightful and watching The Notebook win really took me back. I've been on a Ryan Gosling kick lately (who isn't?) and I'm just so happy for Eva Mendes, truly. Get it girl.
Happy birthday to your blog!! Congrats on your first year!!