a bearcub in winter

this message came in to the anti-oppressive baby animals tumblr today:

“Hey if this is about anti-oppression, then why is it called anti-oppressive baby animals if there only non-human babies? We can’t forget about the impact of anthropocentric supremacy and the privileges that come with humanness! Humans are animals and the separation between the human and non only encourages objectification of the ‘natural’ and subsequent exploitation and domination which that process brings. Otherwise this is my favorite tumblr in the history of time”

these messages are really starting to get out of hand. at first, people were asking legitimate* questions about things regarding gender or why i use the term “pgp” or how to ask someone what theirs might be. and i am always open to the “this is the best tumblr evarrrr” type of comments because 1) it doesn’t require much thought in way of a response and i just send a thank you note to them, and 2) it means people like what is being delivered. lately, though, it’s been this criticism for the way that i have been doing things. not just any criticism, but like real bonkers stuff. i hope these people realize that this is just a blog that came about as a half joke on passive-aggressively calling people out and is in no way any kind of law or anything. i mean, yeah, i should be modeling anti-oppressive practices in everyday life, and i do so as much as i can. but this is a fucking blog. this is the internet. build a bridge and get over it. i can only be so inclusive; you can’t please everybody all the time.

regarding this particular comment:
1) yes, i understand that human are animals. and sometimes baby humans are cute. sometimes. but you know what? i am not posting humans because that’s not what my blog is meant to do. when you do an internet search for images “adorable/cute baby animals,” how many of the search results are human? nada.
2) this blog hasn’t even been around for two months. relax. there are thousands of other animals that haven’t been featured yet, either. and pretty please don’t send me messages about them.
3) anti-oppressive baby animals is oppressive. it only features baby animals. ageism! although, maybe in the future i will do a vh1-style “where are they now?” edition of AOBA where the animals are grown up and leading successful anti-oppressive lives. all of them except the sloth—it’ll still be stuck in the bucket.
4) humans need to acknowledge their privilege and move the fuck back so baby animals can say what they want/need to say. professor scratch ‘n’ sniff told me that all they want to do is spread little nuggets of anti-oppression in all caps using a font that readers either love or hate.

i am not allowed to respond to messages like this through the AOBA tumblr anymore.

*by “legitimate,” i mean that the questions seemed like sincere curiosity or concern and not some snarky remark.

i “accidentally” outed myself at work today. well, we were talking about terrible blind dates, and i mentioned “her” as the person i went on a date with.

unfortunately, now they refer to me as a lesbian (which i am so not). i try to correct them and say queer, but they hardly get that. i don’t think they’re ready for the male/multiple pronouns conversation.

although, i’m sure it might make sense to them why i keep referring to myself as the busboy…

i am playing some songs i wrote about craigslist missed connections tonight at tip top bar & grill in brooklyn. i play at about 9:45 or 10pm. i don’t usually play in public. i get stage fright. i get all sweaty and i shake and my voice cracks more than a 12-year-old boy. i may even barf. you should come.

L Train - Named Rats - w4m - 26 (1st Ave L Train Station)

To begin, I never do this. This is very out-of-character, but it’s 4:45 AM and I just got home, so being loopy is working for me right now.

We spoke from across the platform in the L train station at 1st Ave & started conversing because you had a comfortable seating arrangement going BK-bound. I didn’t. Stupid Queens-bound side!

We also started talking about the various rats scurrying by and you mentioned your roommate had one. So sexy, right!?

You told me about your heritage, when you moved to the US and a restaurant a famous salt & pepper-haired chef would visit near your apartment.

We named one of the feral rats “Frederick” and really this post is just to remember what we named the other rat. Anything else would be just a bonus.

I left out a few details hoping you can fill them in to prove you’re the guy I spoke to and… obviously just tell me the name of the other rat.

Till next time.

A Starbucks compilation!

* * * * *

You were on your Macbook inside Starbucks on 14th ST - m4m – 21 (Union Square)

You were this gentleman inside the Starbucks on 14th Street. You were on your macbook watching sports and i asked if your team was winning and you said yes because they’re usually never winning. You had a blue cap on and you kinda of turned me on a little because of how enthusiastic you were. You were also humming some of the sings playing. Hit me up if you see this and are interested

* * * * *

Starbucks 47^th/9^th this afternoon - m4m – 26 (Midtown)

We shared a table today. You’re older, with a beard and were on your phone a few times negotiating a fee or something and on your Macbook. We shared a bunch of glances and smiles. Would love to meet up…

* * * * *

Starbucks on Canal and Center yesterday - m4w – 27 (SoHo)

Around 3 or 4 in the afternoon, you sat to my left reading a book. I caught a glimpse of you and found you cute. You looked around a few times. I think you were looking for a power outlet. I wish I had one near me so I could have offered it to you and talked to you.

You: short hair, glasses, long jacket purple leggings

Me: Asian wearing a blue polo shirt with two phones and working on my laptop

This is a long shot but I hope you see this. Would love to chat.

Day 26

Unicorn mask - m4w - 31 (Upper West Side)

---

Hi, you helped me recover my friend’s unicorn mask last night in the Upper west side. I have never encountered such kindness from a stranger! You called Brooklyn “fake SF”. I am warmed by your compliment of my home borough! I thought you were sweet and was wondering if you’d like to hang out again. If so, please contact me. Thanks.

* * * * *

Day 27

British gay dude on bike….commented on my pants - w4m - 28 (Manhattan)

---

You commented on my bike gear, and considering the fact you were wearing shorts today, we need to have this conversation. My pants were Outlier (outlier.cc) and they’re the best pants I’ve ever owned.

ANYWAYS

You’re gay, so this is totally platonic, but I still want to chat with you! You got my number but I’m not sure if you got the right one, because you never texted me.

Your name was Alex (I think), you did some reporting for the BBC, we were going to chat about Occupy related stuff…..so get back at me!

Day 22:

i was crying, you stopped… - w4m - 20 (Lower East Side)

Last Wednesday I had just moved into my apartment on 7th St and my family was pulling away in our car. I had a silly movie-cliche moment, and started sobbing on the sidewalk. You stopped and knelt down next to me and asked me how I was. I was so embarrassed and waved you on; you obliged, but I saw you look back a few times to check on me. I pulled myself together as you rounded the corner, you saluted me, and we shared a smile.

I thought since I was new to the city, maybe you could show me around? It’s only been a week, but I’m already lonely here, it would be wonderful to have someone sweet like you to show me around. You were so sweet, and I was so rude to not have taken whatever comfort you were going to offer. Thanks so much for caring. Hope you see this… xxx

* * * * *

Day 23:

eleanor who’s allergic to bees – m4w

hi. im looking for eleanor who’s allergic to bees. we had a brief conversation on okcupid about quentin tarantino and crossing the river styx.

now you either blocked me, or deactivated your profile. but i want to find you because:

you picked up on the fact that i didn’t use any capital letters, and did the same.
you imagined a fairly elaborate scenario where people get taken to another planet for film art indoctrination.you can give me a fresh, unvarnished perspective on pulp fiction and kill bill.

i know some places with good coffee and great lighting where we can meet.

 

* * * * *

Day 24:

Little Guitar at Lorimer - w4m (Brooklyn)

You were playing a little guitar and wearing a blue shirt.

I was sitting down and wearing a blue jacket. I didn’t really smile at you or anything I was trying not to be a super creep.

I really liked your lyrics a lot they haunted me a little, in a good way. Maybe it was your voice too.

I didn’t like your mustache—you would be a lot cuter without it :)

* * * * *

Day 25:

Man on bike, cat on sidewalk. - w4m - 21

I was walking. We made startled, awkward eye contact as I yelled after a tabby that had just run between my feet, “YOU, CAT ! ARE YOU MISSING?” I was trying to communicate with the tabby because, a block prior, I had witnessed a distressed youth hyperventilating before a LOST CAT sign posted to the trunk of a sycamore. You understand.

You: Were on a bike, waiting on a red light. You probably always wait at red lights. I like that. You looked like you have at least one toddler at home. You’re one of those guys who has mastered the art of making “fuck me” eyes with strong undertones of “I’m taken and happy, so get lost” eyes. You were hot. Like, Billy Zane when he’s wearing a wig, hot.

If you are this guy, a lost tabby, or some hyperventilating youth, hit me up. I’m a decent looking brunette, and I’m ready and willing to drop my knitting needles for the time it takes for dinner, a movie, and a good-night kiss on both cheeks.

not a ghost - w4w (m4e)

I’m a living breathing genuine person. I want to know you. If friendship is as far as it can get, alright then. We’ll be better for it.

* * * * *

A ghost is an imaginary friend who’s dead.

I’m glad my life doesn’t depend on posting these daily.

* * * * *

Day 18

Valentine’s morning, you in retro suit and fedora - w4m (G northbound to Greenpoint Ave)

---

You got on somewhere in Brooklyn, on a northbound G train. Rubbing my sleepy eyes, I was startled to catch your kind and intelligent gaze before you even got into the train. I was sitting in one of those against the window seats. You entered the train and stood near, leaning against the glass doors opposite. You wore a full suit of a slightly antiquated fashion. You wore a fedora. You had dark hair and dark eyes. You carried an old fashioned canvas tote type bag, nestled on the floor by your feet.

This was about 10am. It was Valentine’s morning. I was wearing a black coat and black jeans, with a bright red scarf and a red-orange purse. I felt a little underdressed alongside your retro splendor. I have dark wavy hair and dark eyes.

We exchanged eye contact a few times. I wanted to say something to you. I felt like you wanted to say something to me. I feigned sleep for a moment, trying to think of what to say.. “I like your style” seemed juvenile.. I got off at the G at Greenpoint Ave, thinking that was the last time I’d see you, mad at myself for not coming up with some conversational gambit. But no, there you were, you crossed up another set of stairs and you turned back to catch my eye again. Somehow I lost you as we went through the turnstiles and up the stairs- I looked for you up on the street, feeling Valentine’s Day Brave enough to say something- anything- but you were gone.

I know you won’t see this note. And I’ve never done this before. But I’m posting it anyway. Happy belated Valentine’s Day.

* * * * *

Day 19

Reading About Frida - m4m (A Train to Brooklyn)

---

I am not surprised that you are interested in her life and reading about her. Just from being in proximity to you for fifteen minutes or so on the train gave me the idea that you would want to know about someone like her — so vivid and so able to visually describe anger, love and hope in such a virulent way.

But I don’t know you at all, and here I am projecting the crazy stuff that a stranger projects on a handsome man that will probably never never be seen again or with who I will never be able to speak to face to face. You’re just a beautiful smile in a moment in New York that waves good bye, and then is gone.

Frida’s art is very meaningful to me, and it deeply impacts my own work (see attached). Whoever you are, I hope what you read moves you and inspires your work, too. Whatever that is and whoever you are.

* * * * *

Day 20

Spanish at Spike Hill - m4w - 29 (Williamsburg)

---

Hi, I bumped into you at the bar. You were there with your friend from Spain. You let me practice my Spanish on you. I left abruptly with my friends. I never got a chance to tell you that you were cute and ask for your number. You’re cute. Would you mind if I called you sometime?