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  • “A Letter To My 18-Year-Old Self” - article for This! Magazine

    “A Letter To My 18-Year-Old Self”

    (This! - September/October issue)

    Dear 18-year-old Blair,

    I’m writing you this letter because 1, for the most part, people still wrote letters in your day and 2, I want to prep you for your future. First thing’s first, let’s demolish the giant pink ceramic elephant in the room; you are gay! Everyone knows it; own it. Quit telling people, “you can’t find the right girl” or “no one’s interested in you”. There are interested parties but they are lacking the one component you gravitate to. I know it’s scary, but it’s okay. You’re blessed with a great support system that accepts who you are, a spastic nut-job who has an appreciation for dong.

    Because I know you better than you think I do, you’ll take up residence in the state of denial for quite sometime. Don’t waste your time. It’ll inhibit your creativity and partly lead to depression. Yep, prepare to be medicated. Don’t think you’re weird or “going crazy” because you’re taking antidepressants (I told you I know you well). Just consider your roots and then you’ll wonder why you weren’t medicated sooner.

    You’ll get an opportunity to fulfill your dream of moving to Hollywood, only to return with your tail between your legs a month later. Don’t let this defeat you. You weren’t ready. A therapist once told me it takes almost 30 years before the brain is fully formed. Not sure how accurate that is, but it gave me some comfort. Sidebar, only visit this particular therapist for a maximum of 3 sessions, after that you’ll basically be paying for an audience. She’ll give you no real advice, just simply tell you how “entertaining you are”. I know you’re a whore for an audience, but this situation will actually make you a whore.

    When you do come out, you’ll discover the joys of dating and by that I mean there is none. There’s a “dating” app called Grindr (pronounced “grinder”)… Oh wait, you own a flip-phone. How can I describe this? Basically, it’s a website that shows you who’s nearby and ready to “date” AND it’s on your phone! Technology gets awesome; just trust me. Try to avoid this website as a primary source for coupling. It’s 75% sleazy. Although, you will fall in love with someone you meet on Grindr, just tell people you met “through friends”.

    The relationship you develop with this guy you met “through friends” will be great. He’ll be your “ying” to your “yang”. Just know there’s an inevitable expiration date and it will come sooner than expected, at no fault of either party. You’ll be okay, but it’s going to hurt for a while.

    Drinking! You’ll take to this like a duck to water. But please have a DD!

    I know fitness was never really your thing but that’ll change. You’ll begin seeing a trainer who’s as dumb as a box of hair, but is worth continuing sessions with because of his hotness. He’ll tell you to eat six meals-a-day. Please ask for clarification on this! Otherwise, you’ll jump from 130 to 195 lbs in the matter of months. You’re not bulking up by eating 6 regular sized meals; you’re a fat ass.

    These are just a couple keys points I wanted to prep you for. If more comes to mind, I promise to give you a head’s up. In the mean time, I have to head to Midtown for work. That's right, you made it to New York! Don't worry, I won't spoil it for you.

    Xoxo,
    Future Blair

  • Candace Cameron-Bure is my brain...

    My longest, most stable relationship has been with myself. Unfortunately, it’s not as successful as one might think. I would describe it as a Lifetime Original Movie, starring Candace Cameron-Bure as a well-meaning ingénue who becomes involved with an evil ne’er-do-well played by Peter Gallagher and his eyebrows. The core subject is mental abuse and the title would be “Mind If I Make You Feel Bad?”. Okay, so the title isn’t great but neither is Lifetime movies.

    My main bone of contention is with 8 lbs of mostly negativity nesting in my skull. It needs to be said, my brain is such a bitch. It has such a vindictive knack for picking apart everything about sweet Candace Cameron-Bure. Divorce wasn’t an option for me, thanks Obama! I’d thought about having a lobotomy but getting insurance coverage was a bear. Counseling was a temporary band-aid but that sneaky f**k reared its ugly head after a couple of sessions. The only successful solution was taking anti-depressants, but now I’m starting to think I’m developing immunity.

    People have questioned whether Zoloft is really needed, especially since I’ve come out. The answer is “I don’t know” or “I’m scared to find out”. Yes, I’m comfortable in my gay skin and the honesty that comes with that. But being “true to me” doesn’t automatically eliminate my trunk full of issues. I’ve tried to go off anti-depressants before only to rediscover that crushing anvil and the thought of doing so again exhausts me. Someone once condescendingly said to me regarding depression, “It’s all in your head” to which I responded, “Yeah it is, you dumbass”. I genuinely would like to be Zoloft-free and not reliant on chemicals, but something more natural/safe. Maybe one day I’ll get there. But as Kimmy Schmidt would say, “take it 10 seconds at a time”.

    I’ve been taking other strides towards peace of mind, but drinking too much vodka can wreak havoc on one’s checking account. Fitness has been an important factor to achieving serenity, mainly because it gives me a focal point that shuts out all the other bullshit. I’ve been told eating right would be beneficial to my mental health, but damn it I love those Ghost Pepper Fries from Wendy’s. Eating healthy, not an option. I’ve recently discovered the benefits of acupuncture & essential oils. Who knew a couple micro-stabbings & lavender oil could be such mood elevators. Also beneficial, having good friends and Netflix!

    As of late, I’ve been going through one of those “bullshitty journeys” of self discovery regarding life, love and work. Shout-out to my friend Jason, who should definitely be a motivational coach. He’s helped me find a certain degree of peace & strength, which had been buried beneath my bitchy brain. Everyone should get a Jason. He takes my insurance!

    Realization alert! The negativity/insecurity is beneficial to my creativity. Damn, I can’t win for losing. It’s a catch-22.

    Final thought… Well what do know, I’m brain dead. But one thing’s for sure, I want pizza.

    BP