The Hate Mail and I

Tags

Celebrities, Hate, Hate Mail, LeAnn Rimes, Real Housewives, Tammy Lynn Michaels-Etheridge, The Real L Word

I get a lot of hate mail. As an entertainment blogger, I make it my MO to make fun of celebrities. Most of the time I keep it light and funny but sometimes I kick them when they are down. It usually doesn’t matter too much, if you have enough money you are always going to win. So I don’t usually feel too guilty. I stay away from trainwrecks like Britney Spears and Lindsay Lohan. Their lives have evolved into some thing sadder than the fluffernutter articles I regularly put out into cyberspace.

My writing results in one of four reactions.
1) I get a ton of readers. The meaner, snarkier, more willing to call someone out on their BS I am, the more readers I get.
2) Readers love me. I say what they are thinking! We get it, we connect. This is why I write.
3) Readers hate me. We all have our favorite celebrities and varying degrees of loyalty to them. When readers leave me hateful comments or send me angry messages on Facebook, it makes me sad. I’m so sensitive! That’s why I write about celebrities instead of trying to be one! My publisher and other writers love hate comments. They love the challenge, they love the back and forth. I’ve been called every name in the book and maybe I deserve it…but I hate reading it and it’s slowly getting to me. I have had to take breaks from reading comments in the past, so that I don’t ruin my day.
4) I’ve gotten chastised by certain celebrity handlers and once in blue, by the celebrities themselves.

LeAnn Rimes tweeted about me. Tammy Lynn Michaels-Etheridge wrote me a poem and threatened to mail her her thong. PR people for Real Housewives and even State Senators have told me to cut it out and not all cute like Full House Uncle Joey style. Like stop. Now. Stop now or someone is going to call a lawyer kind of stop.

“That’s great!” is the usual reaction that people give me when I tell them how much I have pissed someone famous off. “You’re going to be the next Perez Hilton! This could be your break.” Only it never is my break and I lack the type of follow through needed. I could have jumped harder on LeAnn, could have ridden her like a pony into the sunset of 15 minute infamy. But that’s not really what I want to be known for. It isn’t who I think I am. When I’m caught up in the moment and I write something that makes me laugh so hard I do a spit take, I put it out there. I want the world to see it and laugh with me, even if we are laughing at someone else.

My latest mini-celeb showdown is with Nikki from the first season of Showtimes “The Real L Word.” When previewing the show, I threw in this two liner just for fun.

This year is going to kick last year’s butt. Gone are the older, mature partners in anorexia  and life (Sorry Jill! You aren’t gay! Sorry Nikki, you’re boring!) [Source]

You know what’s not fun? That Nikki actually read it. I have an unread Facebook message from her sitting in my inbox. She wrote in the subject line, “The boring anorexic married to “not gay” Jill.” Ouch. I’m a bitch.

I can’t bring myself to read it. I can’t read it because I feel bad that I hurt her feelings and because I can’t give her what she wants, which is probably an apology. I can’t give it because I’m not sorry, I mean it. Maybe I can’t read it because my reaction to her hate mail says too much about me and what I’m capable of. A woman who doesn’t know me is making me face the fact that I frequently dance across the line between funny and cruel and have surprisingly little remorse for it.

Maybe she’s right and maybe…just maybe…she needs a sandwich.

Like One in Every 10 Women, I Suffer From Bitch Face

Tags

bitch, drinking, friends, socializing

I have a confession to make. I have Bitch Face and I’m scared that there isn’t a cure. You know what Bitch Face is, it’s that face you make when you are less than happy with whatever is going on in your current fishbowl. If you are lucky, no one notices the split second you have your Bitch Face on. However, I am always caught!

Do I hate you? No. I love you as much as I love my giant sombrero.

I must hold the expression too long or something and I always end up getting called out on it. The problem is, I’m not really a bitch! It’s just a face I make. I don’t mean for it to convey any lasting emotion of dislike towards whatever caused it.

Let me give you an example. Recently I was at a bar talking to a beautiful woman and she said something stupid.

Beautiful Woman: Did you like Backstreet Boys when you were younger?

Me: Oh yeah, totally. Quit playin games with my heart fool!

BW: Ha. Didn’t you hate N’Sync? I hated them because they were a rip off of the Backstreet Boys. They stole everything! Blah blah blah blah. Justin Timberlake, perm, blah.

There was Bitch Face. Poor BW withered in the heat of my glare and went to find someone else to listen to her passionate dissertation on 90’s pop bands. The worst part is that everyone can tell I don’t find BW’s conversation scintillating. “You hate that girl,” a friend said to me after the encounter. “I don’t! I like her. She just said one stupid thing, I say stupid things all the time!” [i.e. everything I’ve ever said or written on this blog] So I don’t hate BW, but she and everyone else think I hate her. Which really blows. Who knows all the potential friendships that haven’t blossomed because of my freaking face.

Bitch Face also happens when I see something I don’t like. This is the most problematic when I walk into a bar and it looks dirty or too crowded or I see someone I want to avoid. My friends see the Bitch Face come out and automatically assume I want to leave. “No, no!” I assure them, “I want to give it a try, my face will go back to normal soon. I promise. I’m sorry!”

The consequences? Whenever my friends want to go to that bar, they will look at me and say “But TAS doesn’t want to go there, so we can’t.” Then I will have to apologize for my face again.

What’s the moral of this story? If you see me and I look like a bitch, just come say hi. I’m actually really nice. Also, if you see a girl who looks like a bitch, don’t write her off. She could just have a really bad case of Bitch Face.

About a Blog

Tags

femme, Intro, lesbian, NYC, origins, Sex and the City, writer

Hi! Welcome to Hot Femme in the City. Want to know what this blog is about? It’s about a 20something lesbian writer living in New York City and all the rockin’ shenanigans that entails.

What does the title of the blog mean? For those of you who don’t know lesbian lingo, a femme is a lesbian that conforms to society’s view on how a woman should look and dress. Why am I am femme? Because I’m too curvy to dress androgynous. So yeah, femme. Femme is expensive and sometimes heels hurt but you know, once you commit you can’t acquit. Or something like that.

Also, before you get your panties in a twist, I’m not calling myself hot. The name of this blog is based on a Sex and the City episode that was named after the song “Hot Child in the City.” The episode is about getting high and throwing chicken off balconies. That episode resonated with me, because life is like a bucket of chicken, you um…never know when you’re going to need to get rid of the evidence? If Sally Field or Tom Hanks said it, you would totally be on board.

Anywho, feel free to poke around! I hope you like what you read…you sexy bitch. Yeah, I know you are.