Getting in Bed With Kristin: Making Friends, Making Dates, Making Podcasts
Welcome back to another Getting In Bed With Kristin! This week, Kristin is talking about making friends, making dates, and making podcasts. Also: SAM IN A BASKET. You can ask your questions for the next episode, which will feature guest star RIESE BERNARD and airs on May 9th and posts right here on Autostraddle dot com on May 10th, in the Facebook livestream, on Twitter with the hashtag #GIBWK, or anonymously in this little box!
Getting in Bed With Kristin: Living, Laughing, Loving Breathing With Riese and Carol
Welcome back to another Getting In Bed With Kristin! This week, Riese is here talking about To L and Back and oh so much more! Plus also: Carol! You can ask your questions for the next episode, which will feature guest star RIESE BERNARD and airs on April 25th and posts right here on Autostraddle dot com on April 26th, in the Facebook livestream, on Twitter with the hashtag #GIBWK, or anonymously in this little box!
Getting in Bed With Kristin: Situationships, Invisalign, and Spike!
Welcome back to another Getting In Bed With Kristin! This week, Kristin is back from vacation and talking about casual relationships/situationships, gender and binding, LGBTQ books, that James Marsters interview, and more! You can ask your questions for the next episode, which will feature guest star RIESE BERNARD and airs on April 11th and posts right here on Autostraddle dot com on April 12th, in the Facebook livestream, on Twitter with the hashtag #GIBWK, or anonymously in this little box!
Getting in Bed With Kristin: Grief, Anxiety, and the Practicalities of Breakups
Welcome back to another Getting In Bed With Kristin! This week, Kristin talked about that amazing Buffering the Vampire Slayer prom, and answered advice questions about grief, anxiety, the practicalities of breaking up, and oh so much more. You can ask your questions for the next episode, which airs on March 28th and posts right here on Autostraddle dot com on March 29th, in the Facebook livestream, on Twitter with the hashtag #GIBWK, or anonymously in this little box!
Announcing “To L and Back,” an L Word Podcast from Autostraddle.com
Land ahoy! I am pleased to bring to you today a “teaser” for what will undoubtedly be eventually considered as one of the most important, groundbreaking, forward-thinking podcasts in the history of lesbian civilization. “To L and Back” will undertake the important task of recapping every single episode of “The L Word,” one by one! We will be doing so just in time for The L Word reboot, which currently feels like a gathering storm on a distant horizon, but will undoubtedly eventually feel like a cool outdoor shower in the French countryside.
For Season One, the podcast will be co-hosted by me, Riese, and one of my very best friends, Kristin Russo. You may know Kristin from such enterprises as the “Buffering the Vampire Slayer” podcast, Everyone is Gay, co-directing A-Camp and hosting “Getting In Bed With Kristin” for Autostraddle dot com.
Other talent involved in making this dream a reality include Be Steadwell, who recorded our theme song, and Carra Sykes, who illustrated our logo.
This whole enterprise was Kristin’s idea and then she asked Twitter if they wanted us to do this podcast and twitter said yes. This is a verified method to determine whether or not it makes sense to invest in a thing during a very shaky moment in this company’s existence, right? Of course it is! LIVING LOVING LAUGHING LUXURY LESBIANS!
GO HEAR THE TEASER AND SUBSCRIBE NOW!
Getting in Bed With Kristin: Sitting With Grief and Depression
Welcome back to another Getting In Bed With Kristin, now with 100% more Sam in a basket! This week, Kristin got personal about grief, loss, and depression — and opened up a conversation about how other people get real with their hard feelings. You can ask your questions for the next episode, which airs on March 14th and posts right here on Autostraddle dot com on March 15th, in the Facebook livestream, on Twitter with the hashtag #GIBWK, or anonymously in this little box!
Getting in Bed With Kristin: Coming Out, Getting Over Your Ex, and How to Do Therapy
Welcome back to Getting in Bed With Kristi, which is is now airing on Autostraddle’s Facebook live biweekly — on Thursday’s at 3pm EST! And new videos will post on Friday morning here on Autostraddle dot com! You can ask your questions in the Facebook livestream, on Twitter with the hashtag #GIBWK, or anonymously in this little box!
This week, Kristin is coming to you from her hotel in Pittsburgh to give advice about coming out, getting over your ex, therapy, and so much more!
Getting in Bed With Kristin: Religion & Queerness, Slowly Transitioning, and a New Kitten!
Welcome back to Getting in Bed With Kristin! Based on your feedback, we’re revamping this series in 2019. Kristin will now be on Autostraddle’s Facebook live biweekly — on Thursday’s at 3pm EST! And new videos will post on Friday morning here on Autostraddle dot com! Kristin Russo, every other week! We’ve also decided to focus on you, so Kristin will be centering community and advice, with only a very occasional guest. You can ask your questions in the Facebook livestream, on Twitter with the hashtag #GIBWK, or anonymously in this little box! One more change: GIBWK will now be available on YouTube, for easier viewing on your phone.
This week, Kristin is chatting about reconciling religion and queerness, slowly transitioning, and introducing you to a baby foster kitten!
The Might-Have-Been
The day I found out I was pregnant, I installed an app on my phone that guesstimated — in exclusively fruit and vegetable comparisons — the size of my might-be child. My pregnancy made it from the size of a sweet pea to the size of a blueberry, and during that time I kept a wire-bound journal with “Sweet Pea” written on the cover.
I was only pregnant for seven and a half weeks before my miscarriage. There was no body, no breath; there was no measurable part of a lifetime spent together. I’d only known there was life inside my body for three and a half weeks, and yet the experience seems to still have a heartbeat.
The loss fractured my life into two distinct timelines: what is and what might have been.
In my Might-Have-Been, this month sees me celebrating my child’s first birthday. Who can say what else would be different in the might-have-been. My one-year-old and I might be still living in California. My hair might still be brown and not bleached blonde. It’s impossible to know the full shape of the might-have-been, but for all of its fuzzy details there’s one that is always in focus. I would have had a child. That child would now be one.
I might still be married.
My wife and I had been trying for a year before I finally got pregnant, but despite all that trying, it still somehow took us by complete surprise. I was so accustomed to the disappointment of getting my period that when I was a few days late, I took the pregnancy test with divided attention, just before heading out for an appointment. I waited alone in the bathroom for the plastic stick to tell me what I already knew: I wasn’t pregnant, again. Instead, when the stick flashed PREGNANT, I gripped the side of the tub to keep from falling to my knees.
My wife was in her studio one room over, working on her music at the big wooden desk that was my Dad’s when I was little. He called it his “first piece of adult furniture.” I staggered into the studio and, hand shaking, held up the stick at her eye level.
She reeled. I reeled. We froze, eyes locked together in that tiny room in our rented Altadena home, and laughed like two people gone mad.
I got my bloodwork done right away — first to confirm the pregnancy, then a few more times to make sure things were moving along properly. I was in a constant state of awe as my body filled up with this you’re-totally-really-pregnant chemical called HCG. As the HCG number ballooned, it felt like my skin was getting thicker. I felt like a superhero.
“Did you know the baby is SPROUTING EYES right now???”
I said this to my wife (who, I’d correctly assumed, would delight in the insanity of the information) a day or two before we flew out to Wisconsin. At the time we both worked at A-Camp, an adult sleepaway camp for queer women and trans people of all genders; I run the camp as a co-director and she’d been coming for several years as a musical performer. This year was our second time at a new campsite and it was our biggest camp to date — a welcome distraction from the fact that eyes were sprouting inside of my body.
I brought my sweet pea notebook to Wisconsin. On the plane, I wrote letters to my blueberry-sized future baby.
Our first task onsite was unpacking camp supplies. I could open boxes, but not lift them. I told most people I’d hurt my back, but I had let a few of my closest friends in on the truth about the blueberry. It was on that first day that I started spotting.
Spotting is totally normal, I told myself (it is).
The baby is fine, I told myself (it wasn’t).
We’d spent $300 on groceries at Whole Foods on our way to the campsite so the blueberry would have organic grain bowls rather than a camp taco bar. My wife spent every free moment of those first three days ensuring I had water, food and anything else my body needed while I busied my mind with setting up the campsite and readying for 350 campers to arrive.
Months later, when we were in the throes of our divorce, I’d remember her hand-delivering me a hamburger while I sat surrounded by plastic bins sorting pens and pencils, and have to grip the side of the tub to keep from falling to my knees once more.
The morning after the campers arrived on the campsite, the spotting shifted. I was seeing red. Something was definitely wrong.
This being a camp that centered the experiences of queer women, of course I was surrounded by an Avenger-like team of Miscarriage Preparedness. One of my staff members was an OB/GYN; one of my roommates was experienced in handling trauma and crisis; there was a mother next door, and another staff member who’d lost several pregnancies herself. Out of the mere handful of people let into this experience, each one had a specialized skill set; each of those became a different support to hold both me and my wife up as things progressed.
That afternoon, my OB/GYN Avenger sat down with me privately, asking me detailed questions about how I was feeling, what I was seeing. She explained that she didn’t have the proper tools to make sure I was okay — it could be something that passed on its own, but there could be a blockage, and it was better to be safe. She calmly but firmly told me to look up nearby hospitals and make a plan for whenever I decided it was time to go to the ER. She calmly but firmly reminded me that she was there for anything I needed.
At first our plan was to wait until morning. There was a concert that night.
I walked down the stairs to the theater thinking, “I’m having a miscarriage right now.” Hundreds of sweet camper faces smiled as I passed them, blissfully unaware of everything swirling inside me.
I sat next to my wife.
The cramps got worse.
I started feeling dizzy.
“We have to go now,” I whispered. She didn’t hesitate — and she’s a classic hesitator.
It’s possible that my wife and I were never closer than we were that night. We moved as one being; we barely had to exchange words to communicate.
She grabbed the van keys and we stood up and walked out. Those who knew, knew.
At about 12:30am on May 20, 2017, we started the 90-minute drive to Madison, where I’d read there was a hospital ranked 19th in the whole country. That felt worth the extra half hour, some kind of strange reassurance at a moment when everything felt wildly out of my control, when something I’d wanted so badly was escaping my body.
Another one of my Avengers texted me as the van pulled away: “I just wanted to let you know that I have been in this situation myself, as have so many women. And we are all of us riding with you.”
The pain in the van was the kind of pain where you can’t sit still. I hovered above my seat for a good portion of our journey. For other parts I pushed far back into my seat. I played the radio. I’m certain I couldn’t have heard Mariah Carey’s “All I Want for Christmas” because it was May, but I have a memory of it anyway.
When we got to the ER, my wife dropped me at the entrance before parking. It felt like I’d already bled more in those two hours than I’d ever bled in my entire life. I ran to the bathroom before checking in. There was more blood, and one massive clot, the vision of which will be burned into my mind forever.
There it was, at the center of the blood clot: a cream-colored little sack, like a pearl. I remembered my OB/GYN Avenger asking me, “Have you seen anything that looked tan or beige?”
I hadn’t. Now I had. This was the blueberry. This was my baby. This was what I was writing letters to in my wire-bound notebook. I threw it away. I put on a new pad. I met my wife in the waiting room, and we checked in.
“What brings you here today?”
“I am having a miscarriage. This is my wife and we are having a miscarriage.”
We were suffering a loss so many miles from where either of us had ever called home, and we were also so afraid of how we might be spoken to or judged. To our surprise and relief, every doctor, nurse, EMT, and receptionist seemed to cradle both of us, equally, in their care. They were treating us, a queer couple, as two parents suffering a loss. They were earth-shatteringly gentle, looking us in the eyes, apologizing for our loss, and explaining every single step of the process.
They started with bloodwork and an ultrasound. The woman who administered the ultrasound told us both that she’d lost a pregnancy just two weeks before. Her husband had been traveling for work at the time. We shared a moment together; she understood.
“It seems to have been a complete loss,” the doctor who saw me next said. He explained that although “complete loss” can be hard to hear, it was actually good. It meant my body wasn’t having trouble releasing the thing it needed to release. He told me he was going to relieve some of my pain by manually removing more of the lining and excess blood. He was more gentle with me than any doctor I have ever had. I don’t remember his name, but I can still see his face: wavy brown hair, thin nose, defined jawline, kind brown eyes.
My wife sat by me, close to the head of my various hospital beds, for the entire four hours that we spent in that ER. She was quiet, mostly, checking in with me to see if there was anything I needed that she had the ability to bring to my bedside. I can’t remember if I asked for anything. Did we share skittles in the intake room? Did someone give her a cup of orange juice in the sonogram room? Did we nap together on one of the beds? I can’t remember.
Shortly before we were discharged, a nurse with short-cropped hair approached us. She said, “I know A-Camp. I’m so sorry for your loss.”
What she meant was: “I am queer like you. I see you. I am so sorry for your pain.”
The doctor gave us paperwork, a pamphlet about what to expect in the coming days, and a poem about losing a child that it took me two weeks to get up the courage to read. He told me that if I wanted to stay working at camp I could, but that I had to be sure to get more blood work done when we got back to Los Angeles. It was 6am.
My wife and I were still moving as one person. We looked at each other a lot, but didn’t talk much. We didn’t have to. We were sharing in loss, in support, in pain, in love.
We drove from the ER to the Holiday Inn in Madison. We were due back at camp for a live taping of our Buffy the Vampire Slayer podcast at 3pm that afternoon. Most of the camp was set to come to see it.
We slept four and half hours and when we woke up we cried together, briefly, holding each other under the crisp, starched sheets. We joked about how much more comfortable our hotel bed was then our bed back at camp. We drove back in the van, quietly. Holding hands here and there. Her squeezing my arm, my leg as she looked out at the road.
We got back to the campsite around 1pm. I showered. She showered. She called our donor, who was a close friend, to tell him and his wife that we’d lost the pregnancy. The week before we left for camp had been Mother’s Day, and they’d left us flowers on our doorstep. My wife cried on the phone with them. They cried on the other end. The flowers had been so beautiful.
At 3pm, with a hospital bracelet still on my arm, we took the stage. We talked and laughed about our favorite show. In the episode we were discussing Buffy is in the hospital, and I joked with the audience that to fully immerse myself in the experience I had gone to the ER the night before — but not to worry, I was fine now.
So much of a public-facing partnership is routine, practiced. I am the one who rolls my eyes and laughs at my wife when she gets carried away with facts on dinosaurs or space; she is the one who nods intently at me as I talk about gender theory and makes fun of me when I get over-excited about Nightmare on Elm Street. We had practiced so much, but we hadn’t practiced this. It wasn’t part of our routine, but we leaned on each other and navigated it, somehow, in real time. As the room laughed and applauded, we warmed, and allowed ourselves to forget for a few moments.
We had been two, then almost three. Now, back as two, we moved as one.
We took a few months off before starting to try again so that my body could recalibrate. This time I was really going to do it right: I scheduled a year off of co-directing A-Camp to focus on our podcast and our future-baby. I began going to acupuncture and taking special herbs that tasted like dirt to help strengthen my cycle. I swam several times a week and, even though I knew it was crazy, chose to do my laps in the warmer pool for less temperature shock to my body. I didn’t drink much alcohol at all, and ate piles of greens and sweet potatoes.
Our last attempt was in January 2018, nearly nine years since we’d first gotten together and less than two years since we’d first started trying to make a family, which had been three years after we’d gotten married.
Seven weeks before we separated.
Before the miscarriage, it seemed entirely normal to call the eye-sprouter a baby — to write it tiny letters, even. After the loss, I committed fully to the narrative that it had not, in fact, ever been a baby.
But when my marriage began coming apart at the seams, it somehow became a baby again.
We kept working together on our podcast through all of it; one week after separating we hosted a sold-out Buffy prom in Los Angeles. My wife wore a tux and I wore a gown. Both of us had been hard at work in the weeks prior getting our outfits tailored without showing the other. The only other time we’d put so much care and secrecy into clothing was on our wedding night. The night of the prom, there was only one person in the room with us who knew that we were separating. It would be months before we would announce the split publicly.
I sometimes think about being on stage that rainy Wisconsin afternoon, the day after my miscarriage, my hospital bracelet a snug reminder of what, exactly, I’d been carrying, and what still felt impossible to lift. No one in the audience who laughed and cheered had any idea what we’d just been through, and how we were moving together through our pain. This was like that in some ways. We were still leaning on the warmth, the love in the room to lift us and to help move us forward. The shared laughter and the community were still lifting us. Now, though, there is no snug bracelet. There are no rings. We are no longer one.
If I hadn’t lost the baby — the baby — it would’ve become a cherry, a fig, a plum, a lemon, a peach. A sweet potato, a mango, an eggplant. A butternut squash, a Napa cabbage, a cantaloupe, a pumpkin, a watermelon. A human.
My due date was January 1st, 2018. This month, it would’ve turned one. Our baby would be one, now. I think about that a lot.
Getting In Bed With Kristin + Ryann Holmes: Creating Community, Breaking Up With Social Media and More!
This week Kristin got in bed with bklyn boihood co-founder Ryann Holmes to talk about creating community, breaking up with social media, what to watch on TV, and more!
Getting In Bed With Kristin: Holiday AMA
Yesterday Kristin got in bed on our Facebook live to answer all your holigay-themed (and just regular life) questions! How to deal with food and body comments from your family, why you don’t need to “convince” someone to be with you, the joy and peace of taking a break from social media, and more!
Join Kristin on December 27 when she gets in bed with bklyn boihood co-creator Ryann.
Getting in Bed With Kristin: Advice About Meeting New Friends, Falling for Friends and More!
Yesterday Kristin got in bed with Sam the Cat to talk about meeting new friends, masc fashion, falling for friends, and more! You can check out the full video below. On December 11, Kristin will be getting in bed with Ryann, the co-creator of bklyn boihood at 5pm EST. You can go ahead and get your questions queued up right here or RSVP on our Facebook for reminders!
Happy Thanksgiving from Sam the Cat!
VIDEO! Getting In Bed With Kristin + Andrea Long Chu: There’s Just Nothing Like The Validation Of Strangers
Yesterday Kristin got in bed with Andrea Long Chu and it was exactly as WOW as you’d expect it to be. Within the first few minutes of the show Kristin declared herself 1/16 as smart as Andrea is (a feeling we can all probably relate to) and Andrea explained what it feels like to pee while your genitals are numb so it was destined to be a wild ride! We also had some particularly all-star comments throughout the show, with Riese trolling, Carmen Maria Machado showing up (!!!), and Heather announcing that this was her favorite episode of GIBWK ever!
If you’re unfamiliar with Andrea and her work, first of all have you been living under an internet rock and second of all, let’s catch you up! Andrea is a brilliant writer and thinker who is extremely prolific on Twitter, where her bio reads “sad trans girl & phd candy.” To get a taste of her work, start by reading: On Liking Women, Buffy’s Silent Episode Was An Elegy For Its Gays (published on Autostraddle dot com!!) and No One Wants It, the review of Jill Soloway’s book that is referenced quite a bit in this episode!
Kristin and Andrea talked about so many different things, including but not limited to: Andrea’s childhood, her book, and her coming out story, both Andrea and Kristin’s backgrounds in theater, their favorite musicals, how good it feels when strangers on the internet like you and your thoughts, bad poetry (a new GIBWK theme!), what would happen if Nanette was a musical, and of course, Buffy the Vampire Slayer. WE ALSO LEARNED THAT ANDREA CAN DO A STELLAR BRITISH, AUSTRALIAN, AND NEW ZEALAND ACCENT!!! To hear all this and more – and to listen to Kristin exclaim and laugh every time Riese posts a comment that could be defined as trolling – go ahead and watch this episode! It’s a very nice treat; you deserve it.
Kristin will be back with a new solo episode of Getting In Bed With Kristin next week on Tuesday, November 13 at 5pm EST. It will be an AMA and Kristin will be by herself (well, Sam might show up, too) so get your questions ready! If you want to ask anything anonymously in advance, go to bit.ly/GIBWK and submit a question today. See you then!
VIDEO! Getting in Bed With Kristin + Mary Lambert: Always Send the Book of Annotated Poetry
Yesterday Kristin got in bed with Mary Lambert and it was extremely wonderful! Incase you’re not already squealing with excitement, let us remind you that Mary is a singer, songwriter, poet, Professional Feelings Haver, and just a lovely sparkly human being. Mary literally just released her first professionally published book of poetry, Shame Is An Ocean I Swim Across, and is in New York this week for a book signing that is happening THIS VERY EVENING! TODAY! More details about that below the video.
Mary and Kristin talked about a million different topics, giggled a lot, and almost made microwave popcorn. Here are some (but definitely not all) of the topics discussed in this episode: cartoon crushes, mental health, bad teen poetry, shopping for hot plus size clothing, Mary’s music recommendations, lipstick, and of course, Mary’s brand new book (which, if you were wondering, is a Scorpio, because it just got born yesterday). Mary also performed a brand new poem, got IN Kristin’s bed, and strongly endorsed sending your “casual” date a book of annotated poetry (with the caveat that if you wanna do that, you’re probs not casual).
If you want to see Mary Lambert read her poetry, you can find her at the following events:
+ Thursday, 10/25 (that’s today!) at Barnes & Noble Tribeca, New York, NY at 6pm
+ Sunday, 11/4 at Barnes & Noble at the Grove, Los Angeles, CA at 1pm
Kristin will be back with a new episode of Getting In Bed With Kristin on Tuesday, November 6 (ELECTION DAY!) at 5pm EST with Andrea Long Chu! See you then!
VIDEO! Getting In Bed With Kristin: Facebook Is A Nightmare But Queer Friendship Is A Dream
This week Kristin had a very stressful time getting logged on to our livestream because Facebook is a nightmare and was very sad to be late because she hates being late! However, once she finally logged on, everything was beautiful and she gave advice about self care, making sure you’re registered to vote, getting a parent up to speed on what it means to have a non-binary kid, crushes, friendship, and Judith Butler’s Gender Trouble! We also got a cameo from Sam the Cat, an extremely independent woman who hates hanging out in front of the camera, and learned that Kristin is getting a brand new bed frame very soon, so be sure to join us next time to check that out!
Also something to look forward to next time? Kristin will be joined in bed with ray of sunshine, poet, singer, and total superstar Mary Lambert! Make sure to tune in on Wednesday, October 24 at 3pm EST to get in bed with Kristin and Mary!
Getting in Bed With Kristin + Heather Hogan: Buffy, Cats and Jesus
This week Kristin got in bed with Autostraddle senior editor Heather Hogan to talk about queer representation on teevee, spirituality vs. religion and, of course, cats. Special guest appearance by Socks Bobbi the Cat, Teddy the Bear, Pancake the Chimpanzee, and Heather’s favorite artwork.
Kristin will be back in October with all-new guests!
VIDEO! Getting in Bed With Kristin + Sophia Wallace: Clits, Shame, and the Patriarchy
This week Kristin got in Sophia Wallace’s bed and talked about cliteracy, feeling comfortable with body parts that we’ve been taught to feel shame about, book club crushes, the patriarchy, a missing giant gold clit statue, Sophia’s cute dog and her perfect bangs, and honestly, if you can believe it, so much more!
Photoessay: The 2018 NYC Dyke March + Autostraddle/Everyone Is Gay All-Ages Pride Party
Saturday, during NYC Pride, Kristin Russo and Riese Bernard hosted the the 6th Annual Everyone is Gay and Autostraddle All Ages Pride Party presented by the Tegan and Sara Foundation — and IT WAS BEAUTIFUL. This event began as a response to the increasing number of alcohol-focused, corporate-driven events at many Pride celebrations across the country, and (we think) the first NYC Pride event to center queers under the age of 21.
The space was filled with so many beautiful and handsome folx looking for a little spoken word, chill music, and great banter between Kristin and Riese. There were tears and cupcakes and books and all around perfect queer vibes.
Autostraddle + Everyone Is Gay Pride Party
Housing Works Bookstore and Cafe
Here are the people who took the stage; I highly recommend you check them out! (Or, if you came to the event, here are your quick links to relive this beautiful day.)
Urban Word NYC
Julia Weldon
Emily Wells
And of course your hosts, Kristin and Riese
Who came? Who is coming next year? Who has serious FOMO because I definitely did every year until now!
Note: because this is an all ages event with no “photography will be happening” markings around the venue, I opted out of featuring attendees for their privacy. If you see yourself in a group shot and would like to be removed just let us know!
The 26th Annual Dyke March
The 26th Annual Dyke March took the streets of New York on Saturday. While it’s super fun and beautiful and filled with dancing, the march is an act of resistance and protest. It was launched as a response to pride centering white gay men (and let’s be honest that problem hasn’t entirely disappeared). Now it’s a march for self-identifying dykes to stand up for visibility, empowerment, and all marginalized voices left out of mainstream pride.
Also the folks at the front were singing “as the dykes go marching in” and I almost fainted.
You Should Go to Autostraddle + Everyone Is Gay’s All-Ages Pride Party in NYC
It’s Pride month, which you’ve probably noticed because nearly every company on earth is churning out rainbow t-shirts and rainbow bath bombs and rainbow cookies and rainbow ibuprofen. Most major cities even team up with, like, banks and mortgage companies to create their Pride parades these days. But what if there was a way to spend your hard-earned gay dollars and well-deserved gay vacation at a Pride event that was organized, hosted, and presented by real queer people with your best queer interests at heart?
Well, hey, good news — there is! This year we’re tag-teaming, once again, with Everyone Is Gay to host an all-ages, booze-free Pride party in New York City.
Hosted by Kristin Russo and Riese Bernard.
Music by Emily Wells and CHIKA.
Spoken word poetry from Urban Word NYC.
Presented by Ford Motor Company! JK, JK. Presented, lovingly, by The Tegan and Sara Foundation.
For more details, or to RSVP/share the event with your friends, check out the Facebook event. June 23rd! I’ll see you there!
No Filter: Jasika Nicole And Kristin Russo Enter The Dangerous World Of Crafts
Welcome back to No Filter, a once-weekly jaunt through the annals of queer celebrity social media. What a dream! This week in news, the ghost of Kristen Stewart attended a photo exhibition, Gossip Cop did the Important Work of investigating rumors that Paris Jackson might have a crush on Cara Delevingne and our friend Evan Rachel Wood came clean with a bold new life decision:
https://twitter.com/evanrachelwood/status/941501615189528576
Also, in news that isn’t really all that vapid, Halsey expressed some frustration with misconceptions about bisexuality and ERWB totally understood.
https://twitter.com/evanrachelwood/status/942890789863964672
Bisexual representation, you can stay. Anyway, here’s some Instagram.
https://www.instagram.com/p/Bcscb2QDl1c/?taken-by=carrie_rachel
I love a good go-to photo face; here are three of them.
Lauren Morelli, cackling wildly in the face of knowledge.
Now you know.
https://www.instagram.com/p/Bc0GdJFFj8W/?taken-by=tracelysette
I’m going to include this photograph from Trace Lysette’s insta feed because confirmed bisexual Stephanie Beatriz is in it (along with a huge group of other badasses) and also you can’t stop me.
https://www.instagram.com/p/Bcp1CeqggZY/?taken-by=gabyroad
I will tell you the same thing I told Gaby about this photo, which is that this season of Westworld is very confusing.
Hayley Kiyoko just wishes for your continued success.
Kristin Russo cannot friggin believe she made a pillowcase and Jasika Nicole can’t friggin believe they didn’t make an entire outfit plus a five-course meal. Also HAPPY BIRTHDAY KRISTIN, YOU SHINING STAR.
WE FOUND PATTERS.
https://www.instagram.com/p/Bc0pzO-nZ5B/
Valerie Anne would like for us to discuss this adorable situation. It’s nice that these two gals are such good friends!
https://www.instagram.com/p/Bc5RUvUnP6O/?taken-by=kehlani
I LOVE IT WHEN CUTE QUEERS ARE FRIENDS.
I think “casually draped over a couch” Sarah Paulson is my second favorite Sarah Paulson, second only to “matchy-matchy outfits with Holland Taylor” Sarah Paulson.
EVEN MORE LAUREN MORELLI because look how jazzed these two are. Shout out to user mayralopez1286, who helpfully told Samira, “you look like a teacher lol.”
Lastly, my good friends:
I GOT A NEW JACKET. MY LIFE BEGINS TODAY pic.twitter.com/CRN3jvpu1G
— Daniel M. Lavery (@daniel_m_lavery) December 19, 2017
Join us next week, when I actually do expect some matchy-matchy photos of Sarah Paulson and Holland Taylor; don’t let us down kids!