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For the past few weeks, my posts have been about me, me, me. While that’s all fun, it’s time to give others a turn. This week’s post is a round up of some fresh voices that speak to me, hopefully ones you’re not already reading. Here's some recent additions to my blogroll:
Grace Undressed: Mad money
"Every night is a good night now. I was sick of bad nights. I drive to work and tell myself I am beautiful. At the last stoplight before I merge onto the highway, I check my lipstick in the mirror. I am hot. I look good. Making money is easy.
I check myself again when I hit the sludgy traffic slow-down coming out of downtown at rush hour. I am hot. Hot. Hotter than a fast check. Money will fall on me from sky. Money, money. Money. It doesn't matter if I believe it. It doesn't matter what I believe. I say it and I make it true.
I have good nights now, and better nights. Men flag me down, buy me drinks, take me to couches, unbuckle my shoes and kiss my stockinged legs. They hand me bill after bill. Yes, money falls from the sky. Other girls sit in the dressing room and frown at themselves in the mirror.
Hot as a two dollar whore on the fourth of July. Hotter than a stolen tamale in a Laredo parking lot. So hot I make the hens lay hard-boiled eggs.”
Boobtown Boudoir: The last of my great platonic chauffeurs
"It could be said that one of the major reasons I have never gotten my driver’s license is because there have always been people around to do the driving for me. And by people, I mean boys. These boys weren’t my boyfriends, they were other boys, boys who were content just to have company as they glided over the roads in the most satisfyingly corporeal proof of adulthood imaginable. I don’t know why I never wanted a piece of this for my own, or why I equated the cars of boys with freedom when I was not the one doing the driving. But ever since I was finally old enough for my parents to allow me to get into the cars of my peers, I have been an avid passenger: all rapt eyes and enthusiasm, even when we weren’t really going anywhere. The same could be said for these not-my-boyfriends and their company. I wanted the sensation without the commitment. And the times that I have been able to obtain that have been among some of the happiest and most terrifying moments in my life."
Clea’s Magic Touch: I’m very thankful
“I realize that I'm terrified of him; this is what makes it different from the guys at work. I'm afraid that I will fall in love with him and that he won't love me back. I'm afraid that he'll fall in love with me and that I will break his heart, be another one of the women in his litany of love gone awry. He's older than me. He lives far away. He makes me want to get my shit together, have children, cook dinners, play music, and do something to save our rapidly heating world other than making people feel good."
Fatgirl Femme: Another One Bites the Dust
“It's safe to say that this year's Valentine's Day did not live up to last year's. Last year, wearing a pretty new dress, sparkly heels and a lot of optimistic dreams, I was treated to an incredible dinner at Carmelita's, and then whisked away to a suite at the Hotel Max. My date opened doors for me, gave me flowers, treated me like a queen. This year? That same person told me that she's still in love with her ex. And has been the whole time. She wanted to be in love with me, of course, WANTED to be done with the ex. But, in the end...well...the difference between loving someone and being IN LOVE with someone is all that matters.”
Green Eye Girl: The Holy Fucks
“I have not been single for a day in my entire adult life. Man, I had a boyfriend even when I was 16. I'm 33 and in another long-term monogamous freaking relationship. How did this happen?
When I was married, I thought about how I would be if I was single. I fantasized about being with all sorts
