![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() I mean, it’s Brentwood, so to get accepted you not only have to dance like you’re in Black Swan and belt out a B over high C like it’s a middle G and cry on cue through a memorized six thousand lines of Shakespeare, but you have to do it all at once, while having a 4.0 and forking over a hundred thousand dollars and giving the admissions director a blow job, apparently, but once you’re in, you’re in, it’s Brentwood then Juilliard then fame and fortune, and even if not, it’s New York City, baby, and the most important part of this equation is Brooklyn Bridge at midnight and tiny dogs in Chelsea and the Staten Island Ferry and that ex-girlfriend (don’t think about that, should I think about that?) and the answer to the goddamn equation is the absolute value of not Nebraska. Hold on to your hats Have I got news for you Hannah Moskowitz’s new book Not Otherwise Specified is an actual novel about an actual bisexual woman of color. ![]() My mom fought me on it at first, but I think at this point she’s resigned herself to the fact that I’m never going to get in, so she just signs the forms without arguing. Not gay enough for the Dykes, her ex-clique, thanks to a recent relationship with a boy not tiny and white enough for ballet, her first passion not sick enough to look anorexic (partially thanks to recovery). Not Otherwise Specified.Simon Pulse, 2015. “I’ve applied to Brentwood every semester since I was a freshman. ![]()
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