Settlers Aren't Just From The Old West

I'm going absolutely insane in Omaha. I thought I could handle the lack of fun here. This town is rampant with relationships and settlers. Settlers are the people desperate for that constant reassurance. "I must be pretty." "He/She won't leave me." "I'm special enough for someone to stay with me this long."

"I will never be lonely."

So my nights consist of something a little less fun. All of my friends are gay, so we ALWAYS end up at the 3 gay bars in Omaha, Flix, Chix & The Max. I dress to the nines. Beautiful vintage mod dress, 5" Dior platforms, 1960's Bouffant, my favorite Love Las Muertas jewelry, and of course always Urban Decay lip gloss, gum, and $20. So now I'll set up the scene for you. Now imagine 2 degree weather, 3" of ice on the sidewalk.

I get into my friend Mike's car. We drive to Flix and have a few drinks. After an uneventful night with absolutely no straight hotties in sight, I feel, yet again, like the 5th wheel. Michael is flirting with his boyfriend, Sarah snaps her fingers and a smooth bootie girl appears at her side, and I'm flirting with the idea of a grilled cheese appearing at my side. After an hour of whining to go home, I finally unstrap the heels, slip into a tank, situate The Gucch at the end of my bed, slip on my headphones, and fall asleep to the sound of Air, Nouvelle Vague, or sometimes The Velvet Underground.

It's like Groundhog Day without the hotties. My last days before a long tedious painful surgery are spent curled up in a hoodie, watching movies, and thinking about my art. Fun!