Friday, January 25

Being A Woman Just Thwarted My Plans

I readily call myself a “feminist” and identify as female thus a woman. Recently, I was rejected by this guy I’m “dating” (read: fucking), because I am what I am. Maybe, I’m being histrionic, but he definitely turned me down for a scheduled weekend trip because I was on my period, to add insult to injury: my subsequent offer of anal sex.

The story goes a little something like this: A drunk dial leads to an invitation by The Revolutionary to come visit. However, the beginning of the week, Mother Nature decides to deliver her gift. Knowing how much Revolutionary loves cunnilingus, I tell him that I’m on the rag and mention my butt! His “gut reaction” was to reschedule for the following week.

I told him that I didn’t know how to feel about rescheduling, to which he explicitly complimented my nether regions; which made it only slightly better. We’re supposed to be linking up this weekend, for a long overdue tryst.

However, since this incident, I’ve been wondering is a rejection of my period, my womanhood essentially, a rejection of me as a whole? Does this mean that I can be sure we’re just “using” each other for sex?

Thursday, January 3

HNYC Links | Talking to Strangers, The Kind of Girl I Am, Lena Dunham Pantless, WOC Talk Back

The Kind Of Girl I Am (Thought Catalog)
"Because I am the kind of girl who will call you too much — who will fall neatly under the labels of “crazy” or “needy” because her emotions tend to spill out all at once, and in full color."

Lena Dunham Goes Sans Pants for Terry Richardson in V Magazine (Fashionista)

"Welp, it looks like someone‘s New Year‘s resolutions didn’t involve wearing more pants! Girls creator and star Lena Dunham has found herself bottomless once again, this time on the pages of V Magazine‘s latest issue as photographed by Terry Richardson. Obviously."
"There's crazy things normal people do and there's crazy things crazy people do..."

"If you haven't seen the music video for 2 Chainz's "Birthday Song," the refrain is, "All I want for my birthday is a big-bootied hoe." The video reduces women to bouncing breasts and backsides; one women is actually laid out on a table covered in frosting."


This year, I promise to write more provocative posts and get you to comment and weigh in. Suggestions are welcome... I'll be submitting more editorial pieces around the web this year as well, which I'll link back. 2013 #cantwait

EDIT: The Revolutionary and I are back on! Dating neuroticism, ftl...turns out, finals were an uphill battle all around.

Wednesday, December 19

Kissable Lips: Revlon Review

ATLANTA (home for the holidays)–– A lady never kisses and tells. Luckily for you, I’m not a “lady.” This semester I feel like my alcohol heavy lips have been kissing errybody. The only problem is that no man wants make up all over his face resembling that of someone who just slaughtered a carcass with his pearly whites. I love lipstick! I couldn't live without it #firstworldproblems. I will not abstain. My choice in lipstick is a rare breed: deep, matte pigments that look like a stain. As you can imagine, it wears and kisses off horribly. 

Sunday, December 16

Dating Blooper: Home On A Saturday Night

LONELY SATURDAY NIGHT, NEW YORK CITY–– Let me set the scene: it’s 30 till ten, I’m eating fried delivery, and listening to Rihanna croon confused songs about whether abusive love is still love. In the annoying world of internet lingo, FML. All week, I’d been looking up interesting gallery exhibits I’d love to see with The Revolutionary (the FWB?), despite static communication on his end since Tuesday night... a whopping four days ago. I hate being pathetic! Granted, he has a show in middle-of-nowhere-upstate-New York this weekend and is genuinely busy. I’m making excuses, he’s made time in the past. He asked me out last weekend for this weekend, I have a right to be mystified.

Tuesday, December 11

Friends with Benefits: Viva RevoluciĆ³n

“I think that we’re just Friends With Benefits.”

NEW YORK CITY–– HATE NYC readers, I am falling in love! Well, not really, but I'm rolling with this great guy at the moment. We’ll call him The Revolutionary for his radical views. Points for passion, ya'll! The Revolutionary is a different caliber of man, a notch above the rest: exceptionally intelligent, hilarious, and heartbreakingly handsome. The triple threat. The only problem is (whomp whomp) that I think we’re just Friends With Benefits (FWB). His presence is nice. I don’t want to ruin that by suggesting more. Our first date ended up in my bed (his test), which was a great time. We stayed up all night discussing theories of oppression and literature. It was magical! The next morning he reaffirmed it, “Totally worth it. [ He ] had a nice time with [ me ].” There was a real connection even after the alcohol ran dry.

Wednesday, December 5

ONS: Safe Sex, Unprotected Emotions

One of many Hurricane Sandy Experiences
NEW YORK CITY––“It’s a storm party! You have to come” she declared. I agreed as my family, 800 miles away, blew up my phone imploring me to evacuate. On a whim, there I was in the middle of 23rd Street (literally), faring strong winds and drizzle to get to the neighborhood bar.

We revelled in drunken debauchery and cheered when the lights went out, continuing to drink in candlelight until last call. Attempting to bed the cute  Slashy (Actor slash Model slash bartender), I followed them home. Instead of a comfy bed, I found myself in the midst of UES rich kids ranting about nothing in particular. I had entered a strange party with foreign archetypes. I stumbled over where introductions flowed on the couch. My first drunken impression: Girl, funny looking–named after my favorite childhood toy; Boy, CUTE; sour faced  (read: doesn’t like me) redhead named after Jesus’ mommy.

Monday, December 3

OkCupid for Virgins

NEW YORK CITY––I’m on OkCupid and it's definitely not the, “Most private thing I’m willing to admit.” At 17, Current TV showed me what the world wide web could do. I wasn’t falling into first love and first times unlike your typical mouth-breathing teenager. No, I was a loner in Christrian school, pinning for some dude away at college. Other kids dreamed of college and fame, I dreamt of online dating eligibility. Bookmarking pages of self-portraitured cuties that I would be messaging. This dream vanished in light of college applications and subsequent acceptances/rejections (more rejections, if you want to know) senior year.

"You won’t instantly make Carrie-soulmate-friends #SATC when you first move to New York City."

Tuesday, November 27

Hello, here we go...

HATE NYC is a contemporary snapshot of what it means to be thriving in NYC. Written by me, Alice: a fashion student, aspiring Art History student, indielectual, MPDG, twentysomething, rummaging for love in all the wrong places

HATE NYC is not a hate letter to New York. I'm bound to a tempestuous love/hate relationship with Manhattan. This is an experiential blog about life as a twentysomething transplanted in New York City, doing everything and existentially nothing. 

HATE NYC was created to entertain, inform, and share with like minded individuals experiences open for discussion. I’m blogging to capture what it was like in the “twilight of my youth.” Hello, here we go…