Why I Celebrated Marriage Equality Last Night

Why I Celebrated Marriage Equality Last Night

After the first blush of stunned awe and cheering about the Supreme Court’s historic ruling in favor of same sex marriage yesterday, I began seeing a lot of posts across my social media feeds that ranged from gentle reminders that the ruling is far from the end of the fight for social justice, to flat-out criticisms of all the jubilation that broke out as nothing more than a frivolous distraction from real issues. You know…I can’t think of a single person who’s happy about the SCOTUS marriage ruling who is like, “Welp [dusts hands] guess our work here is done. Good game, everyone!” Not a single one. Yes, there is so much more to do. There will ALWAYS be more to do. Marriage equality doesn’t change anti-LGBTQIA discrimination, doesn’t make life safer for marginalized groups, doesn’t affect the oppressed in other nations. It doesn’t change the fact that too many of our everyday products are affordable because there’s slavery in the supply chain. It doesn’t change police brutality against people of color. It doesn’t change the harassment of the homeless, or the struggle of the working poor to survive, or the continued inequality of access to healthcare resources. Hell, it doesn’t change the fact that a car full of men drove past me *twice* on Thursday evening as I scurried to Fringe’s Preview Night in burlesque drag to make good and sure I knew they were laughing extra-exaggeratedly at me and mocking me loudly for being fat, femme, and visible. It doesn’t change manspreading or comment trolls or Nice Guys demanding the sex they feel owed or arguments about...
An Open Letter to Paul Feig re: Spy, That Every Hollywood Exec Should Be Required to Read

An Open Letter to Paul Feig re: Spy, That Every Hollywood Exec Should Be Required to Read

Dear Mr. Feig: I feel like I should just call you “Paul”, because I’m pretty sure that at some point you must have friended me on Facebook under an assumed name, become deeply enchanted by my brain and sparkling wit, and decided as a result to start making movies that fulfill every wish I ever expressed in my frequent loud complaints about mainstream Hollywood. (If that’s not the case, I hope you won’t mind if I keep pretending that it is.) And I’m gonna tell you right now: If all you did for the rest of your career was make over-the-top comedies where Melissa McCarthy is awesome and says “fuck” a lot, you would have me as a diehard fan from now until the end of time. Screw the haters. If boys can watch seven rehashings of The Fast and the Furious and their dads and grandfathers could watch James Bond or John-Wayne-with-a-different-hat over and over again, then no one gets to give me crap for wanting to see countless incarnations of my girl Melissa ranting, muttering, and manically crashing into everything. I’m planning to see your woman-powered Ghostbusters about 13 times in the theater so that each time I can mail my ticket stub to a prominent MRA dingleberry with “FUCK YOU HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA” written on the back in menstrual blood in the hopes that my magical vagina witchcraft powers will make them all spontaneously combust and melt like that dude in Raiders and then we can all join hands and live happily on the internet together in peace and laughing baby videos. Anyway– so I saw Spy this weekend and I have to tell you,...
The Prodigal Diva Returns!

The Prodigal Diva Returns!

Wow, it’s been a while, hasn’t it? Life has been a bit of a saga for the past year and change (and how much change there has been…) There was some kind of weird cosmic alignment going on in 2014,  because just about everyone I know experienced huge upheavals, major losses, and big transitions throughout the year. My tribe of choice lost one of our beloved friends– one of my housemates and a constant presence in my life for two decades– to a very aggressive cancer, and I offered what help or comfort I could to other loved ones who also lost family to cancer or battled it themselves. In my mild-mannered secret identity life, I shepherded a major website project through delays, slashed funding, and stretched-to-the-limit staff resources until we finally launched early this year. And in the fall, just as I was winding up to seek more bookings and blaze my way across every burlesque stage that would have me, my partner and I learned that we would need to move to a new home this winter. That’s about the time I decided to put everything on hiatus except for my project at work and the long process of sorting, purging, packing and moving. Sometimes things have a way of making their own timeline, no matter what you thought you were going to do. I planned to get back in the saddle and resume performing and producing in March, but in the end, it took me until the end of May for the dust to settle enough that I could snag a last-minute booking with Barenaked Comedy...