Finally I can post this!

Before today, this video was unable to embed. But I've been wanting to post this for like four days.
This is a video of Graeme Taylor. He's 14 and gay. Watch as he eloquently stands up for his high school teacher who was disciplined for throwing a kid out of class that made an offensive anti-gay comment. Run for office, Graham. Do it.

Movie poster of the day: Jane Eyre

Hurry up, March.

This cat. I want him.

Why I kicked and screamed through last night night's episode of Glee.

I must say, Chris Colfer has quite a job playing the only gay glee club member, Kurt Hummel. Aside from it showing more truth than glamour, it's the truth part that makes last night's episode more ballsy than any other episode.
Kurt is not your average, loud impersonation of who a gay teenager is, and I'm pretty sure that has to do with Chris being gay himself. Under those bright cardigans and animal print shoes, he's subtle and introverted, almost never wanting to be the center of attention, and most of all, he doesn't let people take advantage of what they assume him to be. For example, the previous episode featured Mr. Schu predictably wanting Kurt to play the alien transvestite Frank-N-Furter for the Rocky Horror piece. Yet Kurt unpredictably declined on the spot, leaving images of Kurt in a corset, lipstick, and high heels still imaginary. High five, Glee writers.
This episode was one of the most painful to watch considering the literal amount of pain brought on Kurt by a hefty, ignorant football player, Dave, who regularly shoves Kurt into the lockers in his most fragile state. Football-Ass-Dude not only pushes him face-first, but with a considerable amount of force that makes it shocking to believe Kurt isn't left with a broken arm or nose. Rather bravely, Kurt gathers every ounce of scared courage he has to chase after him screaming, "What is your problem?!" to which Dave responds with more threats of his "fury" fist. Dave is clearly angry for reasons other than Kurt's choice of interest.
Kurt does do the smart and thing and go to his Glee Club teacher for help rather than mustering up some scheme involving a pail of beans and a pulley. But Mr. Shue can only sympathize.
Giggle-scream #1: The prep school boys. Kurt decides to go outside his school for some encouragement and winds up at a prestigious, uniformed, all-boys school. Lo and behold, the first boy he meets is Blaine, a member of the Glee Club, and also intelligently gay. Blaine excuses himself to sing Katy Perry's "Teenage Dream" with the other members, addressed almost entirely to Kurt. Insert dreamy halo and godly music. At last, Kurt has found The One.
Scream #2: When the second confrontation with Dave comes around, Blaine has taught Kurt that Dave's actions are out of ignorance and Kurt's best option is to educate him so all the presumptions that seem to be pissing off Dave are gone.
This is what went down: Dave propels Kurt against the lockers so hard it's amazing he's still conscious. Kurt does the same thing as last time: screams after him, trying to get answers. They both wind up in the locker room. Then,
K: "HEY! I am talking to you!"
D: "Girl's locker room's next door."
K: "What is your problem?!"
D: "Excuse me?"
K: "What are you so scared of?"
D: "Besides you sneaking in here to sneak a peak at my junk?"
K: "Oh, yeah, it's every straight guy's nightmare--all us gays are secretly out to molest and convert you. Well guess what, Ham Hock? You're not my type!"
D: "That right?"
K: "Yeah. I don't dig on chubby boys who sweat too much and are gonna be bald by the time they're thirty."
D: [up goes the fist] "Do not push me, Hummel."
K: "You gonna hit me? Do it."
D: "Don't. Push me."
K: "Hit me 'cause it's not gonna change who I am. You can't punch the gay out of me any more than I can punch the ignoramus out of you."
D: "Get out of my face!"
K: "You are nothing but a scared little boy who can't handle how extraordinarily ordinary you are!"
Dave grabs his face and kisses him. My eyes even blurred a little, that's how quickly they saucered. What's even more amazing, he goes in for more and Kurt shoves him away in horror. It was his first kiss that "counted." Well, he got his questions answered, and so did we.
Scream #4: To deviate from the Kurt Chronicles for a moment, Coach Beiste ("beast") has her own love issues as well, which is just as apparent as her great football coaching skills. Beiste sits down with Mr. Schu to talk about why she quit and how sensitive she is regardless of her muscles and teaching methods. She's never been kissed despite being 40. She feels ugly and no one understands her. She's straight. So Mr. Schu takes it upon himself to help her take the next baby step and kisses her. Not only did I scream with arm motions, I protested due to morality of the scene. Since when was it okay for a teacher to kiss another teacher under those circumstances? TV-wise it does seem plausible, but that's it. It's a push-pull. You feel sorry for Coach Beiste, but you also wish Mr. Schu worked his wisdom without taking that extra step.
Scream #5 was internal: Dave shoulders Kurt into the lockers and he falls to the floor. Someone get that boy a punching bag and Enya CD ASAP.

I think my appetite just grew an appetite.

So there's this blog I just discovered thanks to Gwenyth Paltrow. It's by a woman visiting her hometown of Bilbao, Spain, a very ethereal, simple countryside of magic, wishes, and food so amazing I can't look away. It's called "Cannelle et Vanille" and the writer, Aran, takes some fantastic photographs of her worldly food creations.

 I'm moving to there.

This is a conversation/movie about a very important sandwich.

The Sandwich Movie from Sean Christensen on Vimeo.


Totally worth the animation and stuff.

Willow Smith on Ellen. 10 out of 10.

The actual song doesn't do much justice to her voice. Girl has pipes (and no budget).

My Halloween involved no candy and lots of beer pong.

(I know what you're thinking, What? No candy?! but honestly I didn't even notice.)
I don't want this article to be very long but I have a feeling there's no avoiding it.
I wasn't gonna go to the new party when Crystal told me the original party was canceled a few hours before. But I figured I would regret it if I didn't go since I've been very antisocial these past few weeks and I had to do Something or I'd just be doing nothing.
My costume was definitely half-assed. I don't like Halloween. I will never like Halloween just because it's Halloween. And I'll never like being forced to dress up as something nonhuman against my will. Except for last night. After much pondering at Alli's place with whiskers drawn on my face, a black nose, sparkly white and purple eyes, and black booties, I was definitely a last-minute polar bear with the help of a fuzzy white ear hat and white bandage dress (not mine).
Iris, Crystal's sister-in-law, dressed as a dead sexy soldier. Iris' best friend, Kelsey, who showed up last-minute, is a very pretty lesbian, and wore her regular boyish clothes and beanie with an added drawn mustache on her upper lip. Alli wasn't quite sure what was she was but she wore black angel wings, a masquerade mask, and black lace slip. Crystal was the Mad Hatter, which was mostly deadly make up and a little top hat and super-short black dress.
After a 45-minute drive to Redondo Beach, the first person we met amongst the haunted house decorations was Jessica, a pretty, impish looking girl with green tulle around her waist and green stockings and green hair spray and pine tree earrings. She was a car freshener and dead-set on memorizing our names. "Crystal, Alli, Juno, Iris, and Kelsey!" after five minutes of hit-and-miss. She offered us a drink and Iris and Kelsey practically shook with anticipation since they'd been waiting all night for one (or seven).
We entered the garage, which was set up for two beer pong games at a time, and discovered we actually knew quite a few people in the crowd. After mingling with the girls for a few minutes and sharing costume explanations (Madonna, Taylor Swift, gay offspring, Alice, etc.), we were in the kitchen again joined by some Indians getting our pictures taken with a thousand-dollar camera.
I met this Nacho Libre guy from Mexico (who sounds European) who became rather attached to me throughout the middle of the party, maybe because I was nice and we could carry conversation. But after a while he wouldn't stop asking questions and touching my hand in the midst of me feeling very sleepy and not caring (beer does that). I adored him; he was very nice, but he didn't have to be around me so much. There were other people to mingle with who were not slutty polar bears. So I left the balcony and went downstairs to join familiars on the couch in the dark. Nacho showed up again so ten minutes later I went back up to the balcony because I was so tired of answering the same questions, "Are you ok? You just tired?" Fuck. Yes, I'm fine.
On the cold balcony, my friend, Dark, gave me his jacket and analyzed what it looked like on a girl in amazement. Our friend Andrew was laughing at Dark's attempts to hit on me and Dark said, "How can you not hit on Juno? She's a polar bear." I said Andrew was the only one who's been resistant to my bandage dress powers, which is either true or a sign of denial on his part. Dark asked me to dance with him and I said he should've asked me an hour ago when my feet didn't hurt. "I don't give a fuck how much you don't wanna dance," he told me. "I don't give a fuck how much you want to dance with me," I told him. He came up close to me and asked again nicely to dance. "No," I said, completely high from people's need to do "stuff" with me and take pictures of me and ask questions I didn't care about.
We left around 2:30. It was freezing out. While standing at the doorway, Andrew and Dark were on the couch. Andrew said Dark was drunk and that's why he hit on me. Dark said, "Don't listen to that." I told Andrew this was a routine of his for every party so I was used to it.
On our way to the car, I heard a guy calling from the balcony and knew it was for me since he said, "Hey, cat! Nice legs! I like your legs!" I said thank you. My polar bear powers.