On Periods: Let’s put this shit to bed right now: Women don’t lose their minds when they have period-related irritability. It doesn’t lower their ability to reason; it lowers their patience and, hence, tolerance for bullshit. If an issue comes up a lot during “that time of the month,” that doesn’t mean she only cares about it once a month; it means she’s bothered by it all the time and lacks the capacity, once a month, to shove it down and bury it beneath six gulps of willful silence.
Nasty, Simon Doonan:
This may be the best memoir I’ve ever had the pleasure of reading. Set in post-WWII Britain, Simon is a poor kid growing up gay in England. The entire book is about the challenges he faced, from the threat of schizophrenia running in the family to how to navigate the world when almost completely broke, to alcoholism in various forms.
What makes this book so remarkable though is that Doonan doesn’t shy away from any of the “nastier” aspects of his life. Every gross detail is there, in ways that are a little shocking to an American reader (since we’re used to someone coddling us and hiding the gross stuff away). It creates a sense of honestly that flows throughout the entire story; not just a retelling of events but a bearing of the soul. In a hilarious and campy way.
There are a lot of really serious issues that Doonan had to deal with; poverty, alcoholism, mental illness, coming out, and death. But all these issues are handled with amazing levity. So while part of you is cringing for what he went through, the other part is laughing hysterically at the description of the rats in the apartment. Overall it’s a Cinderella story; from rags to fabulous.
Why am I so anxious? And then it hits me. I’m not anxious, I’m lonely. And I’m lonely in some horribly deep way and for a flash of an instant, I can see just how lonely, and how deep this feeling runs. And it scares the shit out of me to be so lonely because it seems catastrophic - seeing the car just as it hits you.
Augusten Burroughs, Dry (via 1995you)