The heavens have opened and gifted us cat fanatics with a whole Saturday night dedicated to kitty-centered DIY projects. Cat Lady Craft Night is going down at the Brooklyn Craft Company in New York City this weekend and I will totally be there, presumably decked out in my favorite cat tights. This night of self-described “catlady nirvana” will teach crafters how to make papercut cat cards, cat mugs, cat earrings, cat tote bags and about a million other homemade goodies. The crafts are each at different stations for you to mingle between at your own pace while you eat snacks and guzzle cocktails. The evening also includes a raffle that benefits Brooklyn Animal Action, a no-kill group that works to better animals’ lives. I haven’t done much in the way of crafting before, so I’m really excited to try this out. Maybe I’ll even learn a thing or two churn out some Pinterest-quality creations? A girl can dream! If you want to come along and get your catlady on, check out the event page here to register and head to Brooklyn this Saturday. You know there’s nothing more awesome than a whole night of celebrating cats! [Image via Brooklyn Craft Company]
This post is reprinted from The Huffington Post with the permission of its authors.
What’s the biggest myth about street harassment? That men of color comprise the majority of offenders.
It’s a myth as old as this nation: the idea that Black men are more likely to be sexual predators — especially of white women. Consider D.W. Griffith’s “The Birth Of A Nation,” that builds an entire narrative on the idea of the black brute. From the Scottsboro boys to Emmitt Till, history as well as popular culture, the justice system and virtually all other facets of American society still hold the deeply entrenched notion of Black men as people to be feared.
But the myth doesn’t stop with history. In a recent New York Times article, a White woman living in a mostly Caribbean community (Crown Heights, Brooklyn) gets physically assaulted by a Latino man and wonders if it’s her fault, as if moving into a mostly Caribbean community was the city-dwellers equivalent to “asking for it.” A few years ago, a woman, also writing for The New York Times, reported on her experience doing aid work in the Congo and hearing repeatedly from other European aid workers that sexual harassment, violence, and rape in those areas “is cultural,” instead of, as she duly notes, “a tool of war.” The myth that Black and Latino men are innately sexually aggressive is one that extends beyond our national borders. Keep reading »
On one hand, I do not envy this poor woman at all. Giving birth on NYC’s filthy sidewalk, right out in the open, with strangers — helpful though they may be — all around me? Shudder. Oh and how convenient, the local news is right there, ready to capture the whole thing on film! Even worse. (Though I’m guessing she had to give her permission for them to air it, in which case she must not have minded that much?) And such helpful commentary from eyewitnesses: “She was like, ‘oh, my God, the baby’s coming.’ And then I could see the baby’s head coming out.” But on the other hand, a labor so speedy that you don’t even have time to make it to the hospital? That sounds easier than a lot of birth stories I’ve heard. (For the record, mom and baby are doing a-okay!) [HyperVocal]
Finding an old douche at New York City Hall isn’t breaking news. Finding a 19th-century feminine hygiene device is.
Archaeologists uncovered a 3-inch contraceptive artifact during a 2010 excavation along the north side of City Hall in Manhattan — but thought it was a spice grinder until this year, DNAinfo reports. Read more on Huffington Post…
Love it or hate it, New York City might be the most romantic, mind blowing or worst date you’ll have in 2014. Ring in the new year with Brooklyn songwriter Marc Smith’s latest rocking love/hate ode that is the very embodiment of “it’s complicated.” This basically captures my entire vibe towards my home of the last 12 years. NYC, sometimes I want to quit you, but I just can’t. [MarcSmithMusic.com]
There is one nightmare that every New Yorker is terrified of experiencing: falling (or getting pushed) onto the subway tracks. For Cecil Williams, 61, that nightmare became a reality on Tuesday when he fainted while standing on the 125th street platform and fell down onto the tracks.
But, see, Cecil Williams is blind. So right after he fell, his service dog, Orlando, jumped right down on the tracks with him. A bystander told The New York Post, ”[Orlando] was kissing him, trying to get him to move.” Keep reading »
Eat your heart out, Miley Cyrus. Anyone can hump Robin Thicke’s Beetlejuice costume on a stage full of people. But it takes real cojones — and, um, possibly a death wish — to jump down on the tracks of the New York City subway system and twerk on the rails. DON’T TRY THIS AT HOME, KIDDIES. Don’t want to drop too low and hit that third rail. [Gothamist]
The internet is the land of over-sharing, and it appears that the interweb gods have now gifted us with one of the most useful over-shares of all: a nifty little map of which New York City neighborhoods are having the most sex. New Yorkers tend to be a little too obsessed with analyzing themselves, but this is one subject I’ll let that slide for. Keep reading »
Relying on the New York City subway system is sometimes like relying on a three-legged, one-eyed horse for all of your transportation needs. Trying to get from my apartment off the G train to a friend’s apartment off the L train on a Saturday evening is a trip that should theoretically take 20 minutes, but instead involves a half-mile walk and piling onto a shuttle bus packed with 200 other miserable, sweaty hipsters shouting at the sad-looking old people who happen to be standing by the doors. In particular, ever since Hurricane Sandy hit a year ago, trying to get from one place to another has been like trying to get to fucking Mordor. Keep reading »