7 Questions With … Me, Amelia, In Honor Of The Frisky’s 7th Birthday
Hey! Most of you know today, March 17th, as being St. Patrick’s Day, but this day actually holds a far more important significance: It’s The Frisky’s birthday! The site launched on March 17, 2008, which makes us a whopping seven years old. My Frisky birthday is even older, as I’ve been with the site since before it even existed — seriously, we didn’t have a name, we didn’t have a staff, we just had a general concept, an Adderall prescription and a willingness to fight an uptight Standards and Practices Department for the right to blog about anal sex. We’ve come a lonnnnnnng way since those days, and I’ve been in the truly lucky position of being at the helm through it all. Over the years, I’ve gotten the occasional email from readers declaring, usually in a disgruntled tone, “The Frisky has changed!” Disregarding the implied insult, they were always essentially correct. We have changed. A lot. In ways big and small, this site was and is always growing and morphing and evolving, largely based on the personalities, passions and points of view of the staff members who have called The Frisky their home 40+ hours per week. Because while The Frisky very much feels like “my” site, it’s never been mine in a literal (SpinMedia gets that claim) or creative sense. It’s been ours and I’ve relished every last second of this seven-plus-year collaborative effort.
While the site is always changing, it’s been most noticeable when there have been big shifts in staff. I’d say that The Frisky has basically had about 4-6 eras in that sense, starting with the first year, when it was basically just me, Catherine and Simcha punching the keys. (I bet quite a few of you are like, “Wait, who?” which is proof that by the time you started reading, we had already “changed” at least once.) And in the last year, we’ve had the biggest shift of all. I’m the only long-time staffer left. Besides me, Claire has been here the longest, and she only started as an intern in September 2013. Winona, Ami and Jessica all left in fairly quick succession last year, and I’ll admit that it was tremendously hard to see them go, as excited as I was for them to spread their wings and fly to do new and exciting things. It was scary too, the prospect of essentially starting fresh with an almost brand new staff — but you know what? It’s been so wonderfully different and invigorating and fun too. That alone is worth the cost of losing a few readers for whom the changes are too big or weird or unfamiliar or uncomfortable or uninteresting or infuriating. I don’t mean that in a dismissive way at all, I just mean that I think it is normal and expected. I appreciate each and every reader, current or former, who cared enough to click and to flounce. Except the racist trolls and MRAs. They can DIAF.
Anyway, with all of that in mind, I thought an appropriately navel-gazing way of acknowledging our 7th birthday would be to more formally introduce you to the six women, including myself, who make up this new era of The Frisky. Over the course of the week — as Stassi Schroeder from “Vanderpump Rules” would say, it’s our birthday and we’ll celebrate it for as long as we want! — they’ll be answering a short little questionnaire I came up with and ordered them to take. And because I am nothing if not fair, I’ll go first — yes, answering my own questions because I am absolutely the type of woman who talks to herself — though I’m sure you’re all sick of me by now.
1. What’s the worst job you’ve ever had (since it’s safe to assume working at The Frisky is the best, do not deny it)?
I’m lucky to have never had a truly awful job — which for me would mean being a dishwasher, a bird handler or a telemarketer, as I hate doing the dishes, birds of any size, and talking on the phone — and have really only had one job that I hated going to every day: being the assistant to a relatively well-known and powerful editor-in-chief of an artsy pop culture magazine when I was 22. It lasted two months and I cried every day for about one month and three weeks of that time. The week I didn’t cry, my boss was in Belarus interviewing Nicole Kidman and didn’t have cell service. In short, this job sucked because she was a fucking terror who didn’t believe in using computers, considered editing a magazine on par with curing cancer, and really liked to yell, while I had undiagnosed ADHD and just could not juggle four constantly ringing phone lines (with asshole celebs on the other end of two of them at all times), her insanely complicated Balthazar breakfast orders and her often extremely-vague directives that I didn’t dare ask for clarification on lest I be screamed at. I actually think I could do that job well now that I’m older and have thicker skin and a stronger spine and an Adderall Rx, but I would still hate every second of it. Did I mention she once threw a used, wet, dripping tea bag at me? Yeah.
2. Who would your pop culture best friend be? EXPLAIN.
Oh god, this is hard because I generally prefer fictional and/or edited-for-peak-entertainment-value people to most people I meet in real life. Actually, that’s unfair. I like lots of people, I’m just an introvert who can only stand to be around other people for limited amounts of time. My real life best friend is my dog Lucca. Anyway, that means I sort of feel like I have more pop culture “friendships” than real friendships, because pop culture friendships can be put on pause, or recorded for later, or deleted when there isn’t enough space, and you can’t do that to real life people as easily, because that’s mean.
Okay so back to the question. My pop culture BFF — today, at least — has to be Abbi and Ilana from “Broad City.” Yes, technically they are two people, but come on, they come as a BFF set. Every episode of that show feels like they’ve reached into the depths of my ADHD wandering brain at its most hilariously stoned, plucked some train of thought I’ve actually had but been too lazy/distracted/high/scatterbrained to actually write down, and then translated into pure comedic GOLD. I want to smoke weed with Ilana and debate the merits of jerk off porn (her fave) versus bisexual porn (one of my faves). I want to go shopping at Bed, Bath & Beyond with Abbi and then make up our own secret hand signal for when we’ve discovered a new and amazing organizational product that will no doubt change our lives. And naturally, as my BFFs, they would write me into their show, as the sometimes seen third wheel that fans start a petition to kill off.
3. What are the five most random things on your bucket list?
Compete on a reality TV show, specifically “Survivor” or “Big Brother,” but not “The Amazing Race” because airports stress me out too much.
Participate in an ayahuasca ceremony in Peru.
Push a baby out of my vagina.
Act out a scene from my “Star Trek” fan-fiction novel, Academy Days – which I wrote when I was 12 — with Wil Wheaton playing Wesley Crusher. Ideally a kissing scene (there are two).
Punch somebody in the face. I don’t actually want to hurt anyone, it’s not about that. “Hurt someone” is not on my bucket list. I just want to know what it feels like to punch someone, though in order for me to get anything out of it, the person would really need to deserve it.
4. How much do you hate men? Explain.
Hmmm, today? Not so much. But last week, I hated them with as much passion as there is blood in my Diva Cup on heavy flow days. It really just depends. Men! Always keeping my emotions on their toes.
5. What secret urge do you get but never act on?
To yell at perfectly able-bodied people who take the elevator to or from the second floor, “ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS RIGHT NOW?” The only reason I don’t give in to that urge is you can’t necessarily tell who might be having leg problems and with my luck the person would be like, “YOU BITCH, I HAVE DEBILITATING KNEE ISSUES” and then I would feel like a terrible person even though the other 99.9 percent of those who refuse to take the stairs one floor are actually embarrassingly lazy.
Also, I regularly have the desire to steal. I mean, it’s not such a strong desire that I actually seriously consider doing it, because I know it’s wrong and I generally try not to do things that are unethical. But fuck yeah, when I’m wandering around Madewell, seeing tons of stuff I wannnnnnnnt and feeling really irritated that a T-shirt, even a super cute, soft, perfectly drapey one, could cost $39.50, I definitely find myself wistfully wishing I had the guts and questionable morals to give myself a five-finger discount.
A secret urge I regularly act on is to cancel plans because I really, really, really want to keep weaving.
6. What would the people who know you best say are your best and worst personality traits so, ya know, Frisky readers can be prepared?
This is very easy for me to answer, as these traits are basically two sides to the same coin. On the good side, I am tremendously loyal to the people I love. I will do anything for you, have your back, support you in any way I possibly can. I will be your ride or die. I will walk barefoot across broken glass for you, walk through fire, even, if absolutely necessary, come into contact with medium-to-large-sized birds for you, though I will not like it. Until, that is, you cross me in some way that I consider irreparable/unforgivable, and then — here’s the bad side — I can be utterly merciless in eviscerating you and your character. Basically, once I’ve been massively hurt by someone, my loyalty turns into disgust that must be spat in their direction. It is rare when this happens, but OOF. You do not want to be on the receiving end of my wrath.
7. What is your dream blog post that you vow to actually write and publish during your time at The Frisky?
Someday, I swear to God and to you, PFG-SCR, I will find a way to do an IN PERSON interview with porn star Manuel Ferrara that will be as raunchy as I can get away with without him becoming uncomfortable.