Final days

Here are some random highlights of 2008:

I became a more grateful-for-the-little-things-type of person.

I created a Kelkian.

I learned that I can survive without regular new Kelka podcasts.

I discovered the genius that is Dan Savage.

I voted for the President-elect.

I finally just embraced those odd things on my body that people refer to as "curves."

On a related note, I admitted that I can look good in dresses (silently and to myself). This, however, does not meat that I intend to wear a dress unless it's absolutely necessary.

I realized the type of person I truly want to be and the type of happiness that I want to live in.

I spent quality time with almost everyone who means something to me.

I let go of several things that I didn't think I was ever capable of letting go.

I finally learned to stop investing myself in pretty bitter boys.

I got a new friend into Six Feet Under and made a new friend who is already into Six Feet Under and consequently tripled my number of Six Feet Under buddies.

2008 has given me many challenges that I'm proud to have gotten through without turning into a bitter, depressed cynic. And while 2009 is just a petty line imposed on the ever elusive concept of time, I'm thinking that this year will kick ass.

Hang up the chick habit

I finally saw Itty Bitty Titty Committee. Not only does it have a buncha hot gay girls who aren't doused in make up, but it was funny and interesting.

Maybe it wasn't the greatest movie ever, and But I'm a Cheerleader is probably more of a classic. Nevertheless, it was cute and made me want to run around town defacing representations of oppression and consumerism. Jamit Babbit's style of filmmaking is entertaining, and she always manages to coat her messages with a layer of humor.

Daniela Sea's hotness actually almost superceded her ineffectual voice. And watching her get it on with Carly Pope....yum! Those big-ass glasses were a bit distracting though. And Clea Duvall was only in it for like 30 seconds, but she looked sexy as hell.

I was basically squealing, fawning, or drooling throughout the film, and I'm probably going to watch it again so I can squeal, fawn, and drool again. Because I thoroughly enjoy being emotionally manipulated by the artists who click with me.

Point

Only the people you love and let in can really do something shitty to you. And if you can never forgive someone for doing something shitty to you, you're never going to have people in your life that you love for long. Because eventually, everybody does something shitty to someone they love. And a long-term relationship is basically a just a banged-up old car after 30 or 40 years.

-Dan Savage

"There's no tellin' what we'll do when we're free"

Lately I've been making a point of not focusing on the negative regarding gay rights. It's pretty much a selfish choice: I don't want to be in a negative mindset, and while I can be aware of the fact that people do cruel things to each other, I don't think it's helpful to dwell on this fact.

Bt then I read about stuff like this, and, even if all the facts aren't there, I realize that I am more than capable of enduring some downers.

So I'm going to tell a sad story with a somewhat inspiring ending.

A few months ago, my friend "Jack" was telling me how he helped edit a tear jerker-typa documentary about Bernie Baran. Essentially, Baran was intentionally falsely accused of child molestation because he was gay. And there is videotaped evidence to support this: the children were basically coerced into lying. But he was sent to prison for 15 years anyways.

And, as one might expect, he was raped in prison. He managed to avoid sexual abuse in subsequent years by becoming an honest drug dealer. He never cheated his customers, and this respect won him some safety.

So my friend Jack met Baran. And at first Baran was (understandably) standoff'ish and shy. But when they finally were able to get a conversation going, Jack noticed that Baran didn't seem as bitter or angry as he expected.

Jack asked him about this, and Baran said something to the effect of, "They already got 15 years of my life. I'm not going to give them anymore. I just want to enjoy my time with my boyfriend."

Damn. If someone can let go of that, then...wow. What can't they do?

The Musings of a Couch Potato

On a random note, this song rocks my face off.

One: I kinda forget that words like "fag" and "dyke" can be considered offensive. Especially since a bunch of gay people got me in the habit of saying those words. And then I look like a brash asshole in front of straight people. Meh, what else is new.

Two: There's a lack of girl drama in my life. This is good; girl drama can be draining and wasteful. But it sure as hell is entertaining. Like that scene in Empire Records when Liv Tyler and Renee Zelweger's character fight, and then Liv Tyler goes on a screaming rampage and has to be subdued by a few guys. Beautiful. I watched that shit in slow motion. Too bad it isn't on youtube.

This is what fake girl drama on television is for. And I put the shows that provide this on rotation (Sex and the City, America's Next Top Model, Will and Grace, Desperate Housewives, The L Word, etc). I'm on a Will and Grace kick. I can't decide if it's a guilty pleasure or actually good television. There is a serious lack of man-on-man action and a serious excess of stereotypes. But the blend of slapstick and mean-spirited humor gets me every time.

And I recently realized that Megan Mullaley has a sexy voice in real life. I watch too much TV.

Three: I'm starting to form a "season 6 wish list" in my head. One of the items is that I want to see Alice in big, emo glasses that make her eyes look endearingly beady. The case in point is as follows:

Whooo are you?

Identity has always been of interest to me. There are so many ways one could identify and describe oneself: what you do, what you look like, how you dress, who you fuck, how you fuck, what you believe in, the friends you choose, what you eat, how you express your gender identity, your taste in art, the accomplishments you value, how much money you make, etc.

Six or so months ago I had an epiphany: zomg! you are what you think! I told a few friends about this revelation, and no one disagreed with me. Your thoughts shape your reality. They shape how you perceive life. They precede and cause all your actions, even involuntary ones. And your internal dialogue is what you spend all day with. It's a more intimate relationship than one could ever have with any other person.

But now, I want to revise this idea. Because I have plenty of thoughts that I do not agree with. They are results of patterns that I have internalized from others, but they aren't me. So now I think that you are how you react to to life, your own thoughts, the thoughts and actions of others, etc. You can decide how these influences affect you, even if the influence is the voice in your head.

And then I was thinking about what the hell I mean by, "Because writing it out is fighting it out." I just intuitively came up with that. But now I see what my goal was, even though I couldn't identify it at the time: I wanted to use writing to extract ill-formed reactions regarding queer issues. I wanted to let go of unnecessary anger, bitterness, shame, etc.

And then I was thinking about how I've broadened the definition of a queer as someone who is free from all social constructs--not just the ones related to gender and sexuality. (No, I'm not a proponent of anarchy).

And I've met someone who doesn't feel inherently inadequate for not measuring up to some standard (as far as I can tell at least). And he wasn't born that way; he did the internal work to get there. It's the most queer anyone can be. I don't know what will happen between us, but it's awesome to know that this exists, even if it doesn't lead to a friendship or relationship.

This is what I'm working towards, bit by bit. To never be tortured or tricked by subjective ideas. To never confuse them for absolutes.

I feel like I sound like The Joker in The Dark Knight.

Bland Menu

I have nothing but petty, superficial complaints.

It's been a long time since I've seen a cute, interesting-looking, not-too-manly, not-too-womanly girl. I can't remember the last time I had a crush that made me feel like a shy, hopeless adolescent.

And to add to this irritation, I saw that Elizabeth Berkely is going to be on the next season of The L Word. Gross! I'm tired of seeing excessively girly girls who wear too much make-up play lesbians. Gimme some cute tomboys. I'm bored, goddamnnit!

Although Alexandra Hedison will come back. That makes up for it. Hot.

Okay, I think girls (gay or straight) talk about (or complain about) boobs just as much as straight guys do. Translation: here is my not-so-intelligent boob-centric conversation of the week....

Me: I really just want my 20's and 30's. I don't know if I want to live in my 40's
Friend: Right. Ew. No.
Me: But if we do live that long, at least our boobs won't sag.
Friend: Mine won't. Yours will.
Me: HEY. No they won't!
Friend: Yours are huge.
Me: They are NOT! I'm a B cup!
Friend: You'll be tuckin' your boobs into your pants when you hit 40.
Me: You haven't seen what mine look like.
Friend: Yes I have.
Me: Not bare!
Friend: Whatever, I have cameras in my bathroom.
Me: It's those double C's and D's that have to worry. The bigger they are, the harder they fall.
Friend: You'll be a size K.
Me: I might just have to flash you one of these days to shut you up.

Content vs. Presentation

I don't identify with my nationality (which I do not wish to disclose). I never really have, partly due to where I was raised. And certain events and circumstances from formative years (which I'm not going to rehash) led me to rebel against identifying with my nationality when I was younger.

And I've recently realized that I haven't shaken this rebelliousness. I've always just felt like a tan white person. And many cannot discern my ethnicity anyways, so I'm content to be filed under "Miscellaneous" in people's heads.

The friends who share my country of origin occasionally tease and scold me when I mispronounce a word or when I talk about naming my hypothetical children by American names. What is wrong with you? Why must you speak like a pasty person? And they try to get me to bring out my "inner [nationality]." Culture is nurture, not nature.

They are totally joking, but the acute judgement is a bit superficial to me. I'm not ashamed of my ethnicity (although there are several cultural norms I disagree with); I simply don't feel a strong bond to it aside from some artistic forms of expression and philosophical ideas. I don't see it as the place of my roots.

As far as I'm concerned, it's just formed by lines on a map and yet another subjective culture that isn't necessarily better or worse than any other since all cultures have their pros and cons.

I think it's kind of silly to attach morality towards "being in touch with one's roots" when one was never raised near those roots. Learning about different cultures is interesting, but I'm just fine with the one I grew up with.

But it kind of concerns me when I have the urge to write off someone just because of their race. And I really only de-clothe with white folk. I wouldn't want someone to do that to me. Furthermore, my nemesis is racist against my race. And that's not why she's my nemesis (she's my nemesis because she's a tumor-like cuntface).

Luckily I'm aware of it and forcing myself to not write people off.

Note: I'm sure I've confused race and ethnicity in this post. Oops. I'm aware of the distinction, but I'm just lazy with consistency.

Zing!

Gotta love this.

In related news...

Me: Wahhh! I'm racist against my own race!
Friend: I thought you knew that Ms. I'm White on the Inside
Me: I did, but I didn't know how bad I was until now.

So, yes, I'm slighly racist against my own race (which I'd prefer to not disclose), AND I have a handful of friends who share my race, AND I kinda want to scream and run because I kinda like a boy who also shares my race, AAAAND he's racist against our mutual race as well!

My life is so off that it's on. I love it. More later.

Riddle Me This

So at the end of Episode 113 of the Savage LoveCast, a guy called in asking why some lesbians find masculinity in women attractive. Why would they go for a "fake guy" when they could have a "real guy"?

I kinda wanted to hear Dan's educated guess, but I can understand why a gay man wouldn't want to speak for gay women. So he invited lesbian listeners to call in with their input for the next podcast. Hmm...perhaps this is my chance to hear my own voice aired in Podcastland!

I obviously cannot speak for everyone, but I think there are some gay women who like masculinity, but they like girly parts and dislike all dick-related dalliances. This implies a separation between gender role expression and anatomy. And, like I've said before, it can be a pleasant surprise to uncover a beautiful feminine body underneath a heap of boyish or gender-neutral clothing.

As for my personal tastes, I don't like extremes in anyone...men or women who are too masculine or feminine don't do it for me because I see them as too one-sided. A bit of masculinity in a woman makes her more three-dimensional and interesting. If she seamlessly combines two opposing hormonal interfaces, then the result is worth purchasing.

Playing with gender can be hot...not just because it's unconventional, but because it's like a bit of a confusing mindfuck that makes less room for labels and assumptions. Granted, there are plenty of styles that one can have, but it gets boring to see girls present themselves so similarly.

Crap

I kinda had an embarrassing realization that I've been rather loyal to this kinda crappy show called The L Word for the past three years.

Let's be honest: it's not exactly quality programming. It has butchered its portrayal of some queer issues, the writing is inconsistent, and they stupidly killed off a main character. The show had potential after season 1, and it did finally make somewhat of a comeback in season 5.

But, Kelka and Riese aside, it's mostly just an entertaining gay girl drama fix (what else could it be with allll women?). It's best to slap the "Guilty Pleasure" label on it.

And then I remembered how ashamed I used to be of being a non-heterosexual three years ago. It's great that I barely remember being that way. But remembering it now is forcing me to acknowledge the trite-but-true fact that this kinda crappy show helped me to emotionally and internally de-closet myself. And I know I'm not the only one who feels this way.

And amusing clips like this, this, and this still make me laugh and feel some vicarious nostalgia. And those moments make me a bit sad to have to watch its last season next year.

Lastly, if some bitch spoils season 6 for me, I will unleash a malicious revenge campain on her!

Imbalances

So I was all excited to start a book club. I got a few friends interested, and I chose a book that everyone was curious about.

But, being the indecisive commitment-phobe that I am, I backed out after 50 pages. I admit I should have stuck it out, but it's not like my friends were dying to eat this book up. I told the wifey (one of the "members"), and she didn't care. But then she devoured the book one weekend, and now she's trying to make me read it.

When she angrily scolded me about it yesterday, I could hear her raising her finger at me via the phone. (you BETTER pick that book up and read it!). And I suddenly had a moment where I thought for the socially conservative side: so THIS is why gay marriage is illegal...too much estrogen!

Friend: I've definitely thought about getting it on with a girl. But my boobs are big enough for two girls. So if you added two more to the mix, it'd be like a mountain of boob overload.
Me: I love you for putting that image in my head.


Loretta: ...I have to admit that I haven't seen Fight Club. Every time you've mentioned it, I've just nodded and changed the subject.
Me: Hah! I can't believe you haven't seen Fight Club OR The Big Lebowski. We must watch these. And I'm so getting you drunk and making you listen to an off-season Kelka podcast with me.
Loretta: But what if I don't like them, and you can't convert me?
Me: [pause] Well, we'll cross that bridge if we get to it.


Me: Okay, I kinda have to confess that I had a crush on a student once.
Friend: Whoa.
Me: Hey, I'm no pederass! She was 18, and I was 21.
Friend: It was a girl?? That's even worse!
Me: Why? I'm mostly sure she was bi. She was like a more charming version of me in high school. If anything, it's narcissistic.
Friend: Whatever pervy girl.
Me: It's not like I have a dick to rape, impregnate, or not make her come with.
Friend: Ouch!
Me: You started the gender biasing, big boy.

Eenie Meenie...

I need me some girl talk. Stupid finals.

I've been quite indecisive lately. It's not really a problem, and everyone's mood shifts. But I'm having a hard time gauging what it is I really want, and I'm so in limbo that I don't even know if that's a good or bad thing.

Sometimes I'm more interested in just holding hands, and sometimes I'm more interested in sex. Sometimes I'm a social butterfly who succeeds at making everyone in the room laugh. Other times I'm setting my phone to silent so I don't have to talk to a soul. Sometimes I want a serious relationship, and other times I'm the biggest commitment-phobe.

I certainly don't feel indecisive about my sexual orientation at the moment though. I've been happily practicing the heterosexual lifestyle since February, and I'm quite willing to put up with the typical assholery of men.

But I need the friends who have been around to hear about every romantic mistake I've made since I was 19. I want them to follow me on dates, and when I'm about to do something stupid, they could cross their arms, shake their heads slowly, and give me a stern look. No, you cannot be picky about that flaw. No, you cannot take your clothes off yet.

So I like Scrawny Boy. Scrawny Boy likes me. But the second he started using more commitment-type words (e.g. "dating" and "companion"), I wanted to run. I don't think I'm afraid of getting my heart broken anymore; I'm afraid of being limited.

We saw Happy-Go-Lucky, and the main character in film was kinda living my ideal life: she was offensively optimistic and upbeat, she was committed to her friends, she worked with kids, and she dated occasionally. She lived in the moment, rented instead of owned, and kept things simple, even if she encountered not-so-simple occurrences.

Trade-offs, trade-offs.

Take it on the other side

So maybe the Governor of Illinois is corrupt (and looks like a ventriloquist dummy), Prop 8 passed, the economy is in the toilet, and Barack Obama really has yet to prove himself.

Maybe it will be a loooong time before gay marriage is legal in this country.

Maybe 2008 has been quite humbling and difficult for me, and it's pushed my awareness to a place with fewer lines. And a part of me doesn't care much about things like making money, eating, or if I'll achieve anything significant (no, I'm not depressed--far from it).

Maybe Kelka will record their last podcast ever this year.

In spite of all this, I'm keepin' the faith about 2009. I'm choosing optimism. I'm knowing optimism.

And maybe I'm as wrong as Rod Blagojevich.

Role Play

I feel like I have a wife. Not sexually. Or legally. But emotionally. We tell each other about the ordinary occurrences and victories of our daily lives. We have a "what's mine is yours" attitude towards money.

She's smaller than I am, and one would stereotypically expect me to wear the pants in this relationship. But oohhh no! She bosses me around. She made me take a mini vacation to our state parks. She scolds me when I say something too crass or sexual.

And one time, when I didn't say "bye" in a vocally affectionate manner, she yelled at me and told our friends about it.

And when she feels insecure about how she looks in a certain dress, I make sure to tell her how good she looks.

She might sound like a bitch, but she's a sweet person. Furthermore, I like being treated like the dopey husband. When I admitted this to her yesterday, she let out an evil cackle and exclaimed, "I know! You're my toy!"

"You're too fucking...BLONDE!"

I've known a handful of gay girls who have told me that they don't find blondes attractive. I also don't find most of them attractive with a few exceptions (Stephanie March, Leisha Hailey, and I didn't think much of Portia until I watched Arrested Development). Personality or talent earns them this exception.

What's up with that? Is it the "blondes are dumb ditzes" stereotype? What is it about blonde hair that communicates a low IQ and a high degree of sluttiness? Who came up with this stereotype? Why?

I have noticed, however, that I like a little bit of ditziness in a girl. Maybe because it's the opposite of how I am 95% of the time? Or maybe because it's more interesting to find out that she's (hopefully) smarter than she seems underneath her facade. The last girl I liked was like this--but she was also batshit crazy. So that put a damper on things.

This is a theme with everyone I've liked. Surprising contradictions are delicious: sensitivity in usually grouchy guys, curves on tomboy'ish girls, intelligence in girls who act dumb, sexuality in uptight "ascetic" men, nerdiness in athletic gym whores, etc. Yum.

I suppose it's just fun to uncover the different layers to people and to find out that there's always more than meets the eye.

Zero Dignity

I appear to have a not-so-intelligent conversation about boobs about once a week:

Me: Anna's boobs are huge; they look like floatation devices.
Friend: Where did that come from?
Me: Well, they do! Maybe you shouldn't tell her I said that...
Friend: You know what would be nice? If our boobs really could float!
Me: You're right! It'd be a nice adaptation to be able to naturally float.
Friend: Buoyant boobs...this is an especially weird conversation.
Me: Hey! You took my weird observation and turned it into a weird fantasy!

In other not-so-significant news, what the hell are they making Kate wear for season 6? Her pants are atrocious. Is she a court Jester? An employee of the Joker? A roadie for Kiss?

And why does her hair look like hairspray'ed roadkill that's too large for the rest of her body? Perhaps it's because someone needs to force feed her? I'm totally not trying to trash her; I just want her to look healthy so I can be in lust again. Is that so wrong?

They used to put effort into her hair (and by "effort," I mean "massive amounts of time and product.") And I could be wrong, but her cheeks used to have more meat to them.

Whatever.

Ground Zero

All of these anti-gay laws and listening to different people have me thinking about judgement, control, and expectations in a more broad and personal sense.

Expectations can ruin life in many ways: they set you up for disappointment. And they can prevent you from seeing what's good about something.

If, for example, you believe that the sodomites should be punished for their sins, well, you might be disappointed. And if you're a homophobic Mormon with a gay child, then you might never appreciate him/her, which is disheartening. Why? because you desperately clung to your expectations.

And that's essentially what most venting is about: disappointment with some person, event, situation, etc. Everyone needs to vent, and I'm not judging that. And if someone has been abused, then s/he needs to vent and get help.

But since when does life have to live up to your expectations? What makes you so fucking special? As Chuck Palahniuk said in Invisible Monsters,"Sometimes your best way to deal with shit is to not hold yourself as such a precious little prize."

Your fellow human beings don't have to agree with your views.

Your fellow human beings don't have to treat you well.

Your family doesn't have to be happy, sane, and supportive.

Your job doesn't have to be pleasant and meaningful.

Your body doesn't have to function.

Your ______doesn't have to work the way you'd like it to etc ad nauseum.

You can do what's within your power to shape your life that way you want it, but the extent of your control will have its inevitable limits.

I dunno what my exact point of this hyperbolic post is is aside from the fact that letting go of expectations (within reason) makes life significantly more enjoyable.

I <3 Gay Podcast Land

1. Okay the whole, "I need to get a purse" thing was just a stupid phase. I saw a little wallet clip thing at Walgreens and found its minimalist simplicity to be hotter than any purse.

2. Kelka confirmed that they will be podcasting in January. Forget the holiday season; Kelka season trumps it in spades. I swear I'm going to get a friend drunk and make them listen to an off-season podcast with me (Loretta--you are my prime target!)

3. Hey, remember that massive act of bigotry called Prop 8? Well here is an amusing musical parody of it.

4. Why am I just now realizing that Jorja Fox is attractive? I'm slow. And she seems possibly gay. As does Vanessa Ferlito.

5. I really want to get on Dan Savage's Podcast. I'm trying to think of an interesting and unique enough question that the tech-savvy at risk youth would find worthy of airing. Gah!

Plus I have a suddently (and perhaps annoyingly) narcissistic love of my gay voice, and I love Dan's gay voice. Having an articulate conversation with him, consequently, might prove to be quite...ah, stimulating for me in my infinite, cerebral perversity.

AHH! No More Lame Duck Watch!

I have a weakness for crime dramas. I've seen almost every episode of Law and Order SVU and CSI Las Vegas.

I love watching the sexy, smart characters follow the clues, interrogate suspects, and pull out their weapons as they try to find the bad guy. I love the cerebral , objective legal and crime scene lingo. I love the plot twists, and I love feeling like a total idiot for not seeing them coming.

Lastly, I love the usually dark, ironic endings. I find them oddly comforting.

So apparently there will be some crime drama-goodness in season 6 of The L Word. AAAAND! Lucy Fucking Lawless plays a detective!!!! Yaaaay!

And apparently a character will die? I'm not sure how I feel about this since they stupidly killed off a great character. If they kill Alice, Shane, or Bette, I will scream. I'll feel bad if it's Tina, especially since she redeemed herself and has a daughter. Max, Jenny, and Jodi are mostly meaningless to me.

There is a lot to look forward to in January: a new year, a new president, the hopeful return of Kelka, and the hopefully awesome denouement to The L Word.

Black or White Bullshit Vol 2

I occasionally browse through random discussion forums on the internet, and I'm confused by this seemingly new wave of people who have a bunch of Palin-esque comments regarding gay people:

Being gay is a choice, but I don't judge, and I'm not homophobic. I love people of all orientations.

and/or

I have friends who are gay, but I don't support redefining marriage. But I'm no homophobe.

Buh?

Okay, I am a full proponent of Kinsey's scale. I do think that there are some people who lean towards the middle, and they may be able to pick a side to some degree. I occasionally fall into this category.

But there are some people who are 95-100% gay/straight. Their sexuality is static, and a lifetime in prison (or a lifetime of living with people whom they aren't naturally attracted to) couldn't even turn them.

Why the hell would 10% (or whatever it is) of the world's population CHOOSE to be a sexual minority? What are the benefits?

1. You get to be a victim who gets to bitch about who the world is unfair towards you. I'm sure there are some gay people like this. This also applies to left-handed, disabled, albino, disfigured, dwarf, hideously ugly, generally unlucky, etc people.

2. You get to feel unique and/or get revenge on your family with your forbidden faggotry....Uh, are you 13?

3. That's really all I can think of.

Labeling all homosexuality as a choice is judgemental and homophobic because it is founded in a desire to invalidate and belittle who someone loves. And it's yet another example of black-or-white thinking that only serves to reduce people.

Associations

Okay, so I know people were talking about this a while ago, but Paris Hilton looks significantly more interesting and attractive when she's gettin' her snuggle on with a coupla hot dykes:

Hot!

There's a reality show on MTV in which young women compete to be Paris's BFF. (I always get exposed to the worst of television while babysitting. And, sadly, I don't tell these adolescent girls to change the channel and get sucked in with them). Luckily, the girls and I were making fun of how ridiculous it was.


But it seriously was a car crash moment. I do understand catching a bit of the celebrity worship bug, and I'm guilty of it on occasion. But to watch girls my age and a few years younger get all catty and emotional over wanting to be best friends with a public persona whom they really know very little about is, well, a little disturbing and kinda sad.

But who knows. Paris Hilton could be ridiculously intelligent and talented. Kate Moennig could be a high maintenance cuntface. I'm not going to reduce these people to what they show to the camera.

I'm a little confused as to why this woman elicits such a strong reaction from people, particlarly women. Love or hate it seems. I can see how she could be considered attractive, but she's scrawny and often looks like she just got off a porn set.

Is it jealousy? Thin, Euro-lookin' chick with lotsa money? It's not like she earned that money. Or her looks. I don't see much worthy of respect here.

I'm not sure what my point here is. I guess my inner feminist wants young women to aspire to something more than a spoiled party girl, even if she might be more than meets the eye.

Or maybe I just wanted to have an excuse to post those pics.

Tee Hee

One: Okay, I stand corrected re: what I wrote in the previous post. I was hanging out with a straight male friend, and he commented on an actor in a film we saw: The actor who plays the social worker is gorgeous. An hour later he said, Hugh Grant is so cute. I told him about this post, and he told me that even homphobic guys jokingly hit on each other.

Two: I kinda see Keith and David in Six Feet Under as the gay version of Turk and JD in Scrubs. Here is yet another amusing SFU clip.

Three: I feel like an unmotivated blob (a figurative blob) who doesn't care about much aside from being happy, hanging out with my friends, and flossing. The more I look around, the more the cynical side of me sees the world as a quicksand pit to aiming suck you into feeling like an unhappy person who lacks certain qualities or possessions (things, people). Blah blah blah.

Four: I used to hate PMS'ing. I couldn't stand the mood swings, rampaging libido, and food cravings. I'm not going to say that it's a pleasant walk in the park, but I do like how it balances me out. Otherwise I'd spend the whole month being an emotionally monotone, frigid person who forgets to eat. But the hormonal fluctuations allow me to experience more emotions on the spectrum. In other words, I can enjoy being crazy and feeling like my frontal lobe has been disabled.

Curious

I occasionally wonder what guys talk about with other guys. I wonder how they talk too. The sterotype is that they're all tough and focus on sports and chicks. I doubt this is entirely true.

And do men compliment/comment on other men re: their physical appearances? It's like a staple with women, and we can compliment without hitting on each other. The following are some random quotes from conversations with various girlfriends:

Those pants make your butt look big--in a good way!

Your shirt/shoes/purse/etc is/are super cute.

You have pointy nipples.

I just realized how big your boobs are!

Your hair looks extra hot today.

I would totally fuck you based on how you look in this picture. It's like RACK, nothing, and then ASS!

Hmm, maybe I have some pervier-than-most friends.

What would be the male version of this sort of interaction?....

Those pants really give the hint of a first-class package!

Way to bulk up those arms you sexy stud.

That shirt accents your pecs quite well. Where'd you buy it?

Perhaps the differences between men and women are a good thing...

Lazy

This is an endearingly amusing scene.

The line, "I just like to lay there" cracked me up here.

Black or White Bullshit Vol. I

This blacks vs. gays issue is still lingering in my mind. It's an obviously sensitive subject, and I will preface what I have to say with a humble acknowledgement of the fact that I have no idea what it feels like to be black. I'm really not trying to be offensive; I'm really only trying to be objective.

But at the same time, the blacks who want to turn their collective hardships into a contest with the collective hardships of the queers is, well, coming from a place that lacks compassion and an open mind.

There's one point that I've heard that I want to address in detail:

Black people cannot hide the color of their skin, but gay people can hide their sexual orientation.

Sometimes this is true, and sometimes it's not. And sometimes there are degrees.

There are some gay people who don't seem obviously gay to begin with--the femmy lesbians and the manly fags. Cases in point include Jodie Foster, Portia de Rossi, Richard Chamberlain, and Rupert Everett.

There are other gay people whose natural facial features, demeanors, and voices are particularly masculine or feminine. They could try to appear more straight, but their attempts might be futile. Cases in point include Rosie O'Donnel, Richard Simmons, Rachel Maddow (whose hotness I just recently picked up on), and Randy Harrison.

And some people are ambiguous. That's why developing gaydar is a useful skill.

Furthermore, there are degrees with black people too! There are different shades of skin color. There are different types of features. There are "oreos" who act more "caucasian" by the the way they talk and carry themselves.

These are things that I myself am not really aware of, but I recently read an article by Allison Samuels in Newsweek on Michelle Obama, and she stated how it'll be great to have a First Lady with a darker shade of brown:

Who and what is beautiful has long been a source of pain, anger and frustration in the African-American community. In too many cases, beauty for black women (and even black men) has meant fair skin, "good hair" and dainty facial features. Over the years, African-American icons like Lena Horne, Dorothy Dandridge, Halle Berry and Beyoncé—while beautiful and talented—haven't exactly represented the diversity of complexions and features of most black women in this country.

Oh yeah, and to follow the idea of degrees to its logical conclusion, there's this thing called passing, and it's been acknowledged, discussed, analyzed, and written about for a while now. So, some black people and some queer people can hide their minority identities. It's a spectrum.

Some queers might exploit their ability to pass for straight. Gee, I wonder why they would do that! Hell, even The L Word mostly avoids casting women who are more masculine than Kate Moennig and Daniela Sea as actual characters.

All of these factors are making it difficult for me to negate the fact the discrimination against blacks bears some similarities to discrimination against queers.

So Fuckin' Lucky

Anyone who knows me personally knows that I've had tons of surprising and significant experiences this year. And I hope I've done these experiences justice by learning what I can from them.

There is too much to be grateful for. I seriously am one lucky bitch. So here's a list (in no particular order) of what I'm (perhaps overly) grateful for:

My mind's ability to be resilient, receptive, and ridiculous (can you tell I like alliterations?).

My beautiful, brilliant friends who provide me with laughter, insight, and emotional support.

My helpful family.

My body.

Conversations that effortlessly last for several hours.

Our sane, sexy, and smart President-elect.

Funny people who crack me up and happen to be queer (Kelka, Dan Savage, Wanda Sykes, Riese, Portia on Arrested Development, Ellen and her dorky-ass style of dancing).

Funny people, regardless of their orientation.

TV on DVD.

Six Feet Under.

Good food and good wine.

The few people who have vicious things to and/or about me (who else can help you to grow a thicker skin or to improve yourself?)

Those moments when I'm driving and one of my favorite songs comes on the radio.

Those moments when a friend says exactly what I was thinking.

The fact that I don't walk around carrying a complex about any facet of my identity anymore.

The fact that I got to "know" KC and Elka via their much-needed, laugh-till-it-hurts podcasts.

The fact that season 5 of The L Word didn't suck.

I think I'll stop there. Happy Thanksgiving!

Duh

I'm thinking about the comment my friend made to a previous post. And that's when I had a Big Duh Moment: no one should have to apologize for who they are or what they feel (as long as it involves two consenting adults-- again, I've seen waaay too much Law and Order SVU).

(And as long as they don't go out of their way to oppress other people, e.g. the pro-Prop 8 Mormons)

It's like I replaced the overly judgemental, internalized homophobic voice with an overly judgemental, internalized ACLU representative. And I make myself the prime target/enemy.

The truth is that minorities and people who swim against any sort of massive, social current can be just as bigoted as any Prop 8 prick.

SO! No more apologizing for being a currently straight'ish, Xena-loving, slim, tomboyish blowjob queen!

"And when you get the body you want, who is going to live inside it?"

(The sweet quote is from season 3 Jenny to Max when he was being a douchebag about NEEDING top surgery NOW NOW NOW).

If you get enough girls together, it's almost statistically inevitable that one will find some passive-aggressive way to voice her insecurity about her weight. I've become increasingly aware of this in the past year, and it's consequently become increasingly annoying. I feel like I'm too old for this.

I'm also pretty sure that the one female on this planet who hates my guts hates me because, unlike her, I'm slim and perky. I wanted to like her. It's a long, stupid story that doesn't merit a telling. But am I supposed to apologize for the fact that I watch what I eat? Am I supposed to apologize for having a smaller frame (which, by the way, has its cons)?

Fuck no! There are plenty of ways in which we will not match up to The [Subjective] Ideal of Physical Perfection. Dwelling on it and allowing oneself to feel perpetually inadequate is a waste.

Conversely, I recently realized that men are expected to be tall and buff. You'd think I'd be more aware of this since the last three males I de-clothed with were tall and ripped....and I liked it. Maybe it's because most people are just naturally taller and stronger than I am anyways.

But I've been hanging out with a guy who is on the scrawnier side, and he was mentioning how he doesn't work out. And in my head I thought, Ohhh, so men have to WORK to look like my ex's. They don't just automatically come like that. INteresting...

Nothing gets past me!

I do prefer manly men who have streaks of femininity and emotional availability. And I LOVE being significantly shorter; then they can toss me around like a play toy. Yum...

But Scrawny Boy is like me: physically weak but mentally strong. He appears to be one of those...happy people. Happy people are like aliens and the Loch Ness monster: many wonder if they really exist. And that more than compensates for his lack of biceps.

Pissing Match: Micro to Macro

I really hate it when people want to automatically belittle another person's pain by stating that their own is worse. It's a clear sign of bitterness, and excessive bitterness just doesn't sell.

MICRO LEVEL
My ex boyfriend was like this. I'd tell some silly, embarrassing story in an attempt to make him laugh, and his response would be, "That's nothing. I've done more embarrassing things because I was always the poorest kid in the school."

Uh.

Look baby, I'm really sorry that you grew up in poverty. I am more than willing to acknowledge that you had it rough; I'm more than willing to listen, cuddle, and fuck. But I'm just telling a simple little story here. Could you tell the whiny victim in you to shut the fuck up for a minute?

Sometimes I want to say, “You win” to those who unconsciously or consciously turn conversation pieces into contests. You win! The weather on your side of the country is more bi-polar than the weather on my side. Your parents are crazier than mine. You tits are smaller than mine. Are you happy now? Because I really don’t care anymore.

And that's what I said to the ex. You win, big boy. His response was, "Winning sucks." But I think he secretly reveled in being "the winner" because it allowed him to wear his pain like a crown. How sexy.

Yeah, he and I don't talk anymore. He lives 20 minutes from me; I wanted to be friends, but Mr. Woe Is Me just couldn't deal. Too bad for him.

MACRO LEVEL
So most people know (at least I think they know) that 70% of African Americans approved Prop 8. The heat has been in the news: minority against minority. It's disheartening. I'm not going to pretend to know why this happened, but I can certainly speculate (with NO intentions to sound racist):

1. People who have been victimized can be more likely to become oppressors. At least according to the 3 psych courses I've taken and the countless hours I've spent watching Law and Order SVU.
2. It's hard enough to be black. But to be gay and black is like a double whammy.
3. Discriminating against gays is not equal to discriminating against blacks because blacks have been oppressed more.
4. Discriminating against gays is not equal to discriminating against blacks because the color of one's skin is hereditary, immediately obvious, and unchangeable (bleach aside). Gay people can mask and suppress their minority identity with more ease, and they can (possibly) choose to be straight. (Yah, tell that to Richard Simmons; butching him up would be so wrong).

Again, I'm just speculating from a more psychological standpoint. Who the fuck knows. I'll end with Wanda's take on it.

Greetings!

There’s generally a standard list of occasions for which people give cards: birthdays, weddings, graduations, parental tributes, new babies, etc.

That’s all well and good. But there are smaller, more egotistical, or more everyday occasions that people celebrate, but they might not be willing to advertise or thow a party for such events.

Nevertheless, they might internally bathe such achievements with just as much validation; I think some of these events can merit a card:

Way to end that dry spell!

Compliments on your newly acquired six pack.

Congratulations on not needing to fake it anymore!

OR

Way to make her come this time!

Happy Coming Out! I’m glad to hear your family didn’t disown you.

Congratulations on having perkier boobs than your nemesis!

Compliments on the surprisingly convincing fake tan. Your ability to cheat the Cancer Gods never ceases to amaze me.

OR

Your ability to cheat the Cancer Gods never ceases to amaze me. Cheers! OR Keep puffin’ away!

We're so relieved that you've decided to stop pretending that you're straight!

Mental Ping Pong

It's like my body and heart forgot that I like girls. Mentally, I know that I like them, but I've been all boys, boys, boys for like a year now. I can't imagine being gay. And last year, I couldn't imagine being straight.

To make it worse, a part of me doesn't want to feel gay again for an extended period of time.

I'm feeling a bit guilty about this. Should I? Maybe if I called Dan Savage they would put this question up on the podcast. Maybe now is a good time to ask him since he's rightfully quite upset about Prop 8; he'd chew me out, and it would make for good entertainment.

I was chatting about it with a bi friend, and we agreed that girls are generally more work, and guys are meaner. But women are socialized to be prepared for this meanness, so that makes it a bit easier. (I know I'm stereotyping, and I'm really just speaking for myself).

And I've been hanging out with dudes more lately. Not for dates, free food, or flattery (I've finally gotten my polite, non-awkward and non-militant feminazi "No, Thank You" down every time one of them offers to pay for my meal). I'm just getting to know different people and test what works for me mentally and emotionally.

And my army of girlfriends is solid, so perhaps I'm just trying to even things out. Or maybe I'm trying to test what works for me for seeking a longer term partner?

How annoying. Yet another bisexual who ends up with a dude.

Maybe I need to tell the protesting, poster-holding HRC representative in me to shut the fuck up.

Unisexy Cont'd

Roughly 1/3 of my close friends have told me that they won't call me by a new name. When I told them that I don't like my name, I was met with a rather blunt, mocking response: Well we're not going to call you anything else! I guess it could be worse.

I did 15 minutes of research, and here are some unisex names that I like (but not all of them necessarily fit me):

Aaren/Arin
Ashton
Alex
Avery
Blair
Cameron
Cary
Elliot
Lee
Riley
Sam
Shane (I am NOT going to make people call me this though; I am not Shane-worthy)

I still think Sam is the best option on the list.

There are some girly names that I like:
Alia
Kasia
Sheeana
Zadie
Alice
Liv
Lucy
Alexia
Abby

Meh, I'm probably being self-indulgent anyways.

On the other hand...

So more and more people around my age are getting married. A college acquaintence voiced this observation to me and told me that it makes her feel old, immature, and behind. Guh?

Granted, a sincere marriage requires committment, responsibility, and maturity. But it doesn't automatically prove growth and maturity, and it's not the ONLY way to grow either.

Furthermore, it's not like we have to do the exact same thing, and life is some race.

Tell it like it is

This is Wanda Sykes' amusing take on gay marriage. I love her.

She has a point: divorce is more of a threat to marriage than the homos. Why not make divorce illegal? Because every kid needs a mom and a dad?

Happy-Go-Lucky Part II

I wish I could fully explain my state of mind as of the past few weeks. There's so much I don't particularly care about: what people think of me, how I look, if I'm pleasing my family, what career to pick, etc. This isn't to say that I'm walking around like an unkempt hobo/hippy, but I'm just keeping things simple.

A lot is just rolling off my back, and I'm content to just enjoy the moment and the day as it is. It's like every moment (no matter how painful, boring, or disappointing it is) is an opportunity to learn and grow. It's pretty fuckin' liberating.

I kinda wanted to make this energy contagious when I hung out with my friends this weekend, but I was not successful. Instead, I noticed girls finding ways to indirectly express their insecurities; seeing through people can be a bit of a curse. I wanted to tell them that they don't need to feel inadequate over some subjective bullshit. And I found myself being judgemental for a short while.

I had a lot of fun, and we had some good laughs. But I wanted them to feel as free as I feel. But I then realized that I have to learn to accept people as they are. I cannot impose my ideas on them. I may have good intentions, but I'm also being selfish and trying to change people to be more like me.

Maybe it's not that different from the Should Nots who try to convert gay people to heterosexuality via prayer. Or the Should Nots who only consider a marriage between a man and a woman is legit.

On a lighter note...

Dan Savage looks really cute here. And look at his big arms! I have a nonsexual crush on a gay man in his forties who would probably yell at me for some of the romantic mistakes I've made.

Wanda Sykes is gay! She recently came out. I love her sense of humor; perhaps it's because my sense of humor is so pasty white. But she's also blunt and dirty, and that clicks with me. Here is a decent sample of her stand up style

Why the hell didn't I know she was gay? It did cross my mind, but she said she was married, so I assumed she was straight. But she also said she was divorced, so...maybe that had something to do with it.

"No more Mr. Nice Gay!"

I've been making a point not to dwell on the disgrace that is Prop 8, but it's still a heated issue in the news, and many are protesting against it today. I happened to flip to CNN to see the oh-so-handsome-and-articulate Dan Savage on Larry King Live (he's the one who said the title of this post).

And yesterday I was curious about our First Lady-to-be, so I looked her up on youtube. Before you know it, I was comparing Michelle Obama's ability to dance on Ellen to Barack Obama's (Michelle wins).

And then I saw a clip of John McCain on Ellen, and they were discussing gay marriage. And when Ellen stated how not being able to get married makes her feel like a second-class citizen, he just said something to the effect of, "We have a respectful disagreement." How is it respectful to put hetero unions at the top?

And THEN I ended up looking at a clip of Ellen announcing her wedding when California legalized gay marriage. I felt sad and pissed off. BUT, my viewing of Larry King Live was fruitful; I learned that the gay couples who got married in California prior to Prop 8's hateful passing are still married.

I do not totally understand how one can "agree to disagree" or "respectfully disagree" on this issue. Sure, you can have a calm debate about it, but either you're for marriage equality, or you're not. And if you're not, then you are belittling a sexual minority; that's why McCain didn't really have an argument.

The only grey area is civil unions, and while those grant some legal rights, they still aren't equal to heterosexual marriage. Helllo! Equal is the key word here!

I also cannot fully validate the idea that America simply isn't ready for marriage equality. I know that there needs to be a degree of readiness, preparation, and incentive for change to occur in a sustainable way. But at the same time, Prop 8 passed because it could pass on a simple majority. If it passed by 2/3's (and if Mormons from Utah hadn't interfered), then perhaps one could argue that California really isn't ready.

But every law granting minorities their entitled freedoms has been met with a reluctant opposition (freeing slaves, desegregation, etc) and a challenging transitional period. Change is hard, even if you're ready for it. Sometimes you just need to dive in and force the small-minded people to just fucking deal with it. Oppressed minorities have had to do it; why can't the oppressors give it a try?

Unisexy

Last night I was telling a friend who has known me for a verrry long time that want a unisexy name. Only those who know me personally know what my name is, but all I can say is that my name is boring.

Me: I want to change my name.
Friend: Noo! Why?
Me: It's mediocre and not me.
Friend: But I like your name...
Me: Why?
Friend: Because it reminds me..
Me: Ohmigod don't say it!
Friend:...of you.
Me: Gah! How cheezy...but sweet...but annoying...my personality should not be associated with my lame-ass name.
Friend: What would you rather your name be?
Me: Something unisexy and ambiguous in ethnicity.
Friend: Like what?
Me: Well, I always liked the name Sam.
Friend: Sam?! What the hell is wrong with you? NO!

Granted, it is my name, and I get the final say, but if I were to start going by a different name, then I'd ideally like my friends to be amiable towards it too.

Is this vain of me? We don't get to choose our names, genetic phenotypes, genders. Is the desire to change one's name comparable to the desire to change one's gender or body? All of these things do influence how we are perceived and treated. And people certainly do like to express themselves; the proof is in the number of blogs and people who want to be writers.

But how we act, what we do, and how we treat others also influences how we are perceived and treated. And, at the end of the day, how far can an external change go to make the person feel internally different? This probably varies by person.

I suppose I could try it and report results.

Sex Rebel

All of these anti-gay, pro-missionary position initiatives have me thinking about the core tenets of homophobia. One of them is obviously that homophobes consider gay sex to be wrong.

Why is it wrong?

Sex is meant for procreation, and gay sex does not lead to procreation: Ummm, yeah, since all the sex that goes on in the world is only for procreation. The number of people who have sex JUST to have babies is infinitesimally small.

People primarily have sex because it feels good and because it's away to connect to and/or conquer other people. If this wasn't the case, abortions wouldn't be an issue, and there would be no birth control.

Gay sex is gross: All sex is gross. Objectively speaking, sex is a weird, messy ritual. People make funny faces and odd noises. Fluids with not-so-delectable tastes and smells are inevitably thrown into the mix.

People (gay and straight) act out ridiculous role-play scenarios and indulge in strange fetishes. It can be painful and awkward the first few times. People willingly put themselves at varying degrees of risk for contracting STD's. Again, we do it because it feels good. And because of hormones. And love will make you do some crazy things.

Furthermore, if sex wasn't at least a lttle bit weird and messy, then it would be boring as hell. All sex is gross.

Gay sex is unnatural: There are homo animals. Nobody turned them gay. It's not like they get Showtime.

Who are you to wave your finger?

I wish every religious fanatic who voted for Prop 8 could see this rather sincere commentary.

Happy-Go-Lucky Part I

It's like you couldn't pay me to stay unhappy for long.

I've been having a lot of probing, engaging, and enjoyable conversations with new, different people lately. Some I often disagree with. But I'm the type of person who can't stop re-reading, editing, and re-writing my view of existence, so I'm learning a lot. This year has provided me with a lot of valuable lessons, and every mistake I've made has been goldmine-worthy.

Furthermore, my life is nowhere near where it Should be for someone my age, and I don't just mean this because I'm a Xena-loving queer. There are a lot of things that are "wrong" with my life, but I just can't see them as anything but "right" anymore.

All of these experiences have me thinking about a broader definition of what it means to be queer. I've always seen it as an umbrella term for all the gays, trannies, and anyone who drastically functions outside the traditional social constructs that dictate sexuality, gender, roles, etc.

But now I think of a queer as someone who questions everything, particularly the religious and secular cults that blatantly and subtely control people. These cults operate by keeping people feeling deficient; they convince people that they need to have the ideal Career, Spouse, Body, etc to be happy.

In the broadest and most idealistic sense, to be queer is to be free, happy, and perhaps most importantly, to be queer is to simply be yourself, no matter how much of a freak you might be. But being a skeptical (and possibly mistreated) minority and being happy don't always go hand in hand. I used to be a rather grouchy skeptic, and now I feel more happy-go-lucky.


Even with disappointments like Prop 8 and Prop 102 passing. I definitely ranted to my friends, and my friends ranted to me. It's depressing and disgusting. And it's going to take more work, time, fighting, and funding before marriage equality becomes a prevalent right in this country.


But when it comes to people who go out of their way to control, oppress, and demean you, the best way to fight back is to go on and be as free, expressive, and impervious as is respectfully possible.

Sure, homophobic people will try to brainwash kids into feeling ashamed of being gay. But there's more information out there. There's more gay shit on TV, in the news, and in our government. But anti-gay movements can only go so far to change who people are and how they feel.

Maybe I sound vague and naive, but some other ideas are forming....

Bits

Me: I just think it's more interesting to take clothes off a girl wearing more gender-neutral clothes.
Friend: Why?
Me: Because then it's like a pleasant surprise, like, WOW, curves! WOW! boobs!

Friend: Gay sex isn't real sex; it's just messing around.
Me: Homophobe says what?
Friend: Well, it's making love, but sex is meant for making babies. And that can only happen with a penis and a vagina.
Me: Uptight Christian says what?

Yeah...I put him in his place.

I will end with a Dan Savage quote that he said in response to a gay man who was trying to discern whether his crush was gay or straight:

I'm always amazed that people who are brave enough to stick a dick in their ass, for instance, are too cowardly just to ask somebody if he's gay.

Oh. My. GAY.

zomg zomg! Lucy Lawless (aka Xena) is going to be on The L Word's last season! I totally squealed and did an unsightly happy dance when I read this.

It's like I died and got an infinite supply of vegan ice cream to go with my bottomless stomach whilst in heaven.

Everyone I know has given me shit for liking that show during my childhood (and by "childhood," I mean all through high school). Well I don't care! I love Xena! And this is the place for me to declare my dorky, socially unacceptable love!

Woooooooo!

Girlness

One: I've been deferring the whole "get a purse" movement for a while now. I'm starting to think it's getting to be time to consider investing in a dykey purse or a girly wallet. I'm kinda outgrowing my piece-of-shit duct-tape wallet. Chalk it up to my taking one more step towards playing for the Estrogen Team.

Two: One would think that a Pro-Boob female with Boob Ego such as myself would enjoy bra shopping. Well, I don't. Unless I'm motivated by showing a particular type of bra to a particular type of person.

Three: My friend (whom I am hoping to roommate it up with soon) and I were talking about the value of your close female friends and how they get your back during the tough times. And then we discussed the ideal of living with a close female friend and getting support and compaionship from her while dating other people "on the side."

Perhaps it's like the female, same-sex version of the fag hag relationship? There is a primacy attached to the friendship, but it doesn't have to be neurotic or possessive. Maybe I just am not too keen on the idea of living with a man.

Speaking of fag hags, I thoroughly enjoy indulging a bit of the inverse of the fag hag relationship: gay girl + straight guy = fun girlish guy talk about girls. It's a unique type of comfort and rapport.

God damn Prop 8

I'm all for trying to see the good in peope, but I've gotten to a point where it doesn't really surprise me when someone is mean, stupid, bigoted, irrational, oppressive, manipulative, etc. It's statistically inevitable to encounter someone like this.

But Prop 8 passing is disappointing. To go out of your way to re-oppress people who just gained a liberty they shouldn't have to fight for...well, that's a downer. It's also embarrassing.

I wonder how many of those who voted for it are really just shamefully queer on the inside.

So now Ellen and Portia and thousands of other gay marriages are annulled?

This goes back to the idea of the Should Nots and their anti-life paradigms. I'm so outside the realm of any organized religion that I forget about how it's mostly about controlling people and keeping them guilty, limited, and/or unhappy because they don't conform to this One idea of how people Should be.

Blah. Rant over. At least the President-elect doesn't seem like a bigot. And, on a lighter note, I had a lot of fun teaching some cute grade-schoolers how to pronounce, "President Barack Obama" yesterday.

Patriotic

YAY Obama whooped ass! Yay, we don't need to have bigoted, one-sided idiots in charge anymore! Yay, our economy is in more solid hands! Yay, our president isn't a homophobe! Yay, our president has hot facial structure and intense, sexy eyes.


OK I'm done. I feel happy, relieved, and proud. Oh, and I totally forgot that Obama is black (well, half black) and that his getting elected makes history for African Americans. I suspect I'm not the only one.

I don't know about Prop 8 results yet, so I'm going to continue with my optimism.

The other day I was telling my friend how great it is to be in a country in which a handsome, articulate, hilarious fag like Dan Savage could be an authority on sexual relations. A sodomite is influencing how people act in relationships and the bedroom.

God bless America

Halloween Fun

1. Yesterday was Kelka's 10 year anniversary. Happy Kelkaversary! I doubt there are many couples who can have that kind of chemistry after 10 years.

2. Hanging out with new boy was fun yesterday: we rocked the toy section in Wal-Mart and played Mad Libs in Barnes & Noble. It was filled with dorky goodness; however, I am fairly certain we will not date. The energy just doesn't seem to be there. I find this to be a huge relief. I need to break the pattern of boys I de-clothe for or just date girls exclusively.

3. I was helping my friend find a wig for Halloween, and as we looked around, we spotted Luke and Leia costumes.

"You could be Leia for Halloween," she suggested.

"I'd rather be Luke," I replied with an enthusiastic point at his costume.

"Congratulations. You're a dyke," she said as she patted my back.

Paradox

The universe keeps throwing tall, lean, muscular guys that I can joyously shoot the shit with for hours. It's a curse in a way...

I've sorta mentioned this before, but I'm very attracted to men who are drop dead brilliant, but I don't have this requirement for women. Furthermore, I'm more attracted to men who are skeptics who question and try to rise above societal norms. With a girl, I just want to laugh, have analytical conversations, and ride with awesome chemistry.

So I want a somewhat "normal" girl and a somewhat "rebellious" guy. And being with men is considered "normal," while being with women is "rebellious."

But my types often get too skeptical, and it gets to be a burden to listen to them bitch about our fucked up world for hours on end. But this new guy seemed to be a sincere person with a good heart, so I gladly played therapist as I have often done for people.

I was supposed to hang out with him tomorrow. I wanted to cancel our plans and cancel him in general. I called him up, stated my grievances, and yelled at him for 20 minutes. He calmly addressed what my issues were.

And then we had a fun little three hour-long conversation that we both struggled to stop. Oh, and we're haning out tomorrow. Oh, and he doesn't like super girly girls.

I'm fucked.

The Should Nots

I'm different from how I was when I started this blog; this is no surprise since it's been about 1.5 years. I was a bit bitter and overly analytical then.

I'm tempted to bitch about Prop 8 and die-hard Pro-Lifers who refuse to allows rape and incest victims get an abortion. But I don't think I have much more that is new to say on these issues.

Except that I left a message on Kelka's voicemail that went something like this:

I just realized that the entire maniacal/extreme Pro-Life package is sort of Anti-Life in a way. It's often (but not always) intertwined with religious extremism and the inability or unwillingness to separate church and state.

You can't have fun and be who you are: you Shouldn't be gay, you Shouldn't have sex before marriage, you Shouldn't use some or all forms of contraception, and you Shouldn't have the choice to abort a child that is the product of a rape.

All of these Should Nots are just toxic because they aren't reasonable, realistic,or responsible. Trying to teach kids to abstain from any sort of fun will backfire. Repression and denial are unhealthy and lead to the inability to responsibly manage one's urges when they inevitably burst to the surface.

I had some Should Not biases when I started blogging here: there Shouldn't be so many straight people. People Shouldn't have kids. Bigots Shouldn't be political leaders. Straight people Shouldn't be so ignorant about their privileges.

While every argument can have some truth to it, and this country CLEARLY needs a lot of help, I've been happier since I've let go of trying to impose my ideals all the time.

I should, however, note I am not likely to be this calm about things if John McCain is elected.

Thank You

I was having one of those lovely, long, liberating conversations with a guy that I'm hoping to at least be good friends with. We speak the same language and have similar goals. It's great so far.

So I was talking for a minute, and when I finished he said, It's like you're not a girl; you're a person.

Ha! He articulated how I have felt my whole life. I've always just felt like a person with thoughts who has some girly and boyish traits. But deep down, I just see myself as a person. I don't want to say genderless because, in a way, that implies a lacking of sorts (or maybe that's only in my head).

I'm just a person, and gender can be irrelevant. It was awesome for someone else to see that in me, especially from a male romantic prospect. I feel almost grateful.

Inverse

A while ago my friend informed me of something that you would think I'd be aware of: I have abs. While it was flattering to hear, I really don't have much muscle mass at all at this time. The vast majority of the population is bigger and stronger than I am.

Furthermore, I don't want abs. I used to. I remember sporting a four pack in high school. I remember doing pilates in college and fantasizing about reaching Janet Jackon's level of abdominal superiority.

Now I love being soft. Not fat, but pleasantly padded. I find it more healthy and aesthetic. Nobody wants to cuddle with a skeleton or rest their head on a tummy with no cushioning.

And, I find it more feminine. But wait. Doesn't society put more pressure on women to be thin? Aren't women supposed to be ones bitching about feeling fat, counting calories/pounds, and asking their spouses if certain dresses make them look fat?

And yet, in my head, I feel like it's more masculine to be harder and more angular. And it's the woman's "job" to be huggable and soft.

It's so liberating to be able to see something differently. Same variables, different formula, new results.

Props

This is yet another reason why I blog crush on Riese and her posse of automatic winners.

Art is meant to be acknowledged, appreciated, discussed, and shared. So is information. Hence the link.

One of these things is not like the other

I used to associate girliness with stupidity. I'm not sure when I stopped exactly, but I know it lasted in my early college days. I remember my friends comparing me to Daria and Darlene Connor from Roseanne.

Somewhere along the line, I slowly broke the connection between these two traits. I started to enjoy more sappy endings. I bought some cheap mascara. I was susceptible to male flattery. And my personality still produced a cynical, cerebral concoction that remains an acquired taste.

But few months ago, someone called me ditzy. I almost took it as a compliment. Not because I have aspirations to be a ditz, but because I'm capable of surprising myself.

Now I will admit that the following recent incidences aren't exactly intellectual cornerstones in my life:

1. Jumping up and down, giggling, and clapping my hands at a party when a bunch of friends showed up
2. Squealing at a Sex and the City movie commercial
3. Routinely checking for cute panty bargains online when I'm piss poor

HOWEVER! I will say that it's even more stupid to suppress a part of your personality just because of some inaccurate, negative connotation. Girlish boys should be girly, boyish girls should be boyish. And people in between should be in between.

If you try to get someone to contradict their psyche, then the result can be forced, awkward, and incongruous.

Taste the Rainbow

(I'm well aware of how lame the title of this post is).

I appear have made a new dorky, giggly friend. She's 100% gay. I think she's even a Gold Star. No, I don't secretly want to get in her pants (even if she is adorable).

I just don't have any fully gay friends; they're all bi and mostly waiting to pounce on the right girl--if she ever comes along.

Yes, yes, I know I sound like some dumbass scientist. It's not like she's the last panda in the zoo. But monosexuals kinda fascinate me on some level. And to know a queer monosexual could give me some different perspectives.

I know that when you get to the core of things, relationships have pretty much the same issues and complications regardless of gender. And there's more to a person than their orientation. But still. I'm like an admissions officer at a liberal arts university: I like diversity.

String of Thought

I wish I could quote Dan Savage's rants on here, but they're a bit too long. I also wish I had discovered his wisdom earlier; he distills information about sex and relationships that took me months and/or years to figure out.

I haven't listened to Kelka in weeks. I miss them, but I'm really glad they're okay after some sub-human douchebag stole their laptop while they were home. I wish the Kelkian army could beat their ass. That prick'ish fucker violated my virtual heroes; I feel offended and protective.

I'm starting to feel that "settling down" instinct kick in a bit. No, I don't want to be married. But I'm feeling a little less curious about "tasting the rainbow" and more intent on really getting to know one person.

I'm a bit scared that I'm going to "pull a Baby Mama," and one day wake up with a desperate need to have kids. I really love kids, but I really don't want to be a mother. But will nature eventually trump nurture?

I want a Shane-like girl to date suddenly. I'm a cliche.

Go Away

I cannot speak for other cities, but mine is filled with nasty men who hit on anything with boobs and a vagina.

I have always wanted to say, "Fuck off, I'm a dyke!" to a particularly revolting one. But I'm not sure if this would deter them.

I will try this during the day time and while I am with a friend. Then I'll report back results.

So NOT the point

Uh, is it just me, or is Sarah Palin kinda cute? You know, for a woman her age. And for a politician.

Like, the total opposite of McCain.

It seems like everyone is assuming that the aged McCain would die in office, so there's speculation over why he chose her and if she's got what it takes to lead the country.

But when I first saw her, all I thought was, Ooh, she's got a Tina Fey-type thing goin' on!

Clueless

One: Ohmigod! I JUST discovered Dan Savage's podcast. I guess this is one good thing that has come out of my Kelka withdrawal. I love how he talks and delivers advice bluntly and confidently. Right now, he seems so all-knowing to me.

Two: This incident sort of happened again: my friend invites me over to try on clothes that she doesn't want that might look good on me. Maybe we'll make it an annual ritual. I whined and moaned, but I gave in. I didn't freak out as much when I saw myself in the dress she had me wear this time. In fact, I internally acknowledged my own hotness, and I thought of occasions in which I would actually wear it (although all I can come up with is wearing the dress in order to get someone else to take it off me). Perhaps this is progress?

Three: So my new favorite drink is Malibu and pineapple juice. Everyone has been telling me this is a girly drink. So stuff that tastes good and sweet is girly, and stuff that tastes like crap is manly? If it's harder to ingest, then you are proving your masculinity. I guess I see the connotation, but I think deliciousness should be genderless.

Four: I usually look younger than my age. I also have friends who look younger than their age. You know you're getting old when you catch yourself checking out a girl and then realize that she might be underage or barely legal. I have no frame of reference.

Analyze Not

I was having a lovely lunch with my friend "Loretta," and she asked me if my blogging here has slowed down because I've worked out my issues with being queer. I guess in a way I have: I no longer feel such a strong need to analyze and categorize every gay thing that passes through my big, dense head. I'm just like, Meh, I'm a big homo today...run with it!

I really don't care about the gender of the person I date or pursue in a serious way. I tend to go for guys because there are more to choose from, and I have had more practice interacting with them. If that makes me a "sellout," then whatever. I remember KC saying something along the lines of, "If you're 51% straight, then be straight. It's a hell of an easier life."

I'm not always one to choose things because they are easy. And if I ever did meet the right girl, then I would pursue that to its logical and emotional conclusion regardless of the shit I might have to deal with. And I'll always identify as tomboy'ish. But the truth is that I feel more alienated from the world when I'm gay. And, if I can help it, I would rather avoid that. Some might call this cowardly.

I guess it's just bisexual privilege. It's a right that gay people don't have, and a part of me will always sympathize with the stereotypical lesbian hatred of bisexuals. After all the bitching I have done about being bi, I might as well acknowledge the fact that it enables me to align myself to the majority.

I could label and judge myself, but I have better things to do.

"Mommy, Where Do Gays Come From?"

My need to analyze and comment on all things queer has diminished, and that is partly why this blog is sadly dying. But here goes:

I was with young children when they popped in the movie Stick It (bad title, I know). I thought it would be boring, but the main character, played by Missy Peregrym, was a fuckin' dreamboat: rebellious, funny, tomboyish, athletic. I wanted to vocalize my lust repeatedly, but I didn't want to be "inappropriate."

Is it wrong or right to bring up gayness to other peoples' kids? I have no idea if their parents are uptight or not, but the kids will encounter more gayness as time goes on. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to casually bring it up like it's no big deal. But if a parent is paying someone to watch their kids, does a caretaker have the right to make moral judgements that may challenge the parent's authority?

One Big Happy Queer Family?

I was in a waiting room, and I happened to overhear a conversation between three middle-aged women; they were discussing celesbians:
"Have you seen Cynthia Nixon's girlfriend?"
"She's ugly."
"I mean there's nothing wrong with going for a lady, but if you're a good-lookin' woman, you can do better."
"Portia is gorgeous."

I always thought Portia was boring-looking, but I recently realized that she is, indeed, attractive (and funny in Arrested Development).

I could bitch and spew out self-help cliches (e.g. "love isn't just about looks" and "beauty is subjective"), but I'm guilty of saying things like, "Lesbians who wear flannel all the time are embarrassing." And I'm guilty of talking shit about hideous straight girls.

Example: There's a health foods store I frequent. I applied to work there, but they said my availability conflicts with their needs. I happen to have a love and passion for healthy foods and nutrition (being the "granola dyke" that I can be). I was a bit disappointed.

I was there yesterday only to notice that some big, ugly blonde with freakishly long nails, gobs of eyeshadow, and an obvious fake tan was a recent addition to their staff. I had a moment of bigoted immaturity: That hideous hetero bohemeth doesn't deserve to work there! I do! When I go to health foods stores, I want to see girls with short hair and emo glasses dammnit!

Am I a bad person? Probably. Will we all accept each other unconditionally all the time? Probably not.

I'm Looking Through You

So I was getting trashed with a friend, and we were exchanging jealousies. She was jealous of how hot my ex is; I was jealous that she recently made out with a girl. She's straight, so instead of welcoming her to the obnoxious world of bi-curiosity, I was a bitch and told her to stay in Het Town.

THEN she informed me that this girl she kissed was about to get married. My jealousy immediately turned into pride: any girl who can make out with a bride deserves mad props. I then proceeded to hug her.

We briefly strolled through the city holding hands. She asserted that if we were a couple, she would be the domme. She was wearing a sundress and prancing as she said this. Although she was kind of right.

She told me my personality gives off more gay vibes. I agree, but we analyzed the statement further. How can one have a gay personality? She said it was partly intangible, but I have a toughness about me that says dyke. In spite of the fact that I'm small, spiders make me scream, pets and babies make me fawn, and I need a regular dosage of girl-drama...there's truth to her observation.

What would one say if I mentioned how I got a lump in my throat when Xena ended?

Why can't straight girl be tough? Or can she? Does she have to be more subtle about her strength?

XX?

Being medically examined by a ridiculously pretty and overdressed woman only a few years older than you are is...nerveracking. She was trying to do her job; I was trying to not to seem lame. I felt like I was in high school again.

I wasn't even personally attracted to her. She was just so easy on the eyes and dolled up that I had to let my mind wander the second that I noticed her fingernails were short. I temproarily discarded the fact that they're probably short because of her line of work.

I usually don't feel this way around females who seem so obviously dick-crazy. A part of me wanted to blurt out, Honey, dick ain't everything. But why should I want to convert her? Maybe because I feel like she's another species who barely looks like a real person with thoughts. Although she did manage to provide me with a useful diagnosis. So I'm clearly being biased.

I've had to watch more reality TV than I'd like (yes, have to--don't ask). I've seen a few episodes of Made. The premise of the show is that some adolescent gets a coach to make them change a part of themselves that they don't like. Both episodes had boyish or nerdy girls wanting to be more femmy and fashionable. There's nothing wrong with this, and they definitely could use a few pointers.

But one of the girls was super cute (athough she was a slob who spits--gross). I was feeling annoyed that they were changing her. Girls who look cute in hoodies shouldn't feel they need to change so dramatically. Especially if their coaches are gross, boring-looking women who exude...blonde-ness and unoriginality.

I know I'm probably reading too much into this, but singular modes of female expression get on my nerves sometimes. Originality isn't everything, but neither is being told how to present yourself.

Mission Impossible

One: In the past month or so, I've now had two straight female friends volunteer to pretend to be gay for me:

Friend: You should take me as your hot lesbian date.
Me: You're not very convincing...
Friend: Hey! I can butch it up!

I love how she was offended. I'm not sure what to make of this generosity.

Two: I was thinking about the two ex's whom I despise. They have a few things in common: 1) a need to constantly sell oneself through elitism 2) and an arrogant view of pussy. Those who assume that they fully understand all that there is to understand about vagina will never master it.

Confidence is important, but so is humility. I suddenly feel like pussy is the Tao: The more you know, the less you understand.

KELKA PRIDE!

There are a lot of good-lookin gay girls who obviously have a good sense of humor in Albuquerque right now. As I look at pics of cute girls at Kelka pride, I can't help but desperately wish I was there. I partly retract what I said about not being as interested in girls at the moment; I would break my heterosexuality any day for a Kelkian hookup.

Instead of paying homage to Kelka by way of quoting them, I will make a list.

You know you're a Kelkian if...

You feel strange after not listening to their podcasts for a day or two.

You try to get as many gay girls as possible to listen to them.

You feel pissed off when those gay girls don't heed your spreading of The Good Word.

You know which jokes are in which podcasts.

You know which jokes come at which times in those podcasts.

You know what jokes are coming up, and you still laugh in spite of yourself.

People stare at you as you laugh out loud to them in public.

Your ideal girlfriend is a Kelkian.

You've had several dreams about them.

You check the blog or iTunes almost daily to see if a new podcast is up.

You squeal, jump up and down, and/or flail your arms when a new podcast is posted.

You use them as a coping mechanism.

You fall asleep to them and wake up with your headphone wires tangled around you.

You occasionally feel the urge to throw your arms up and yell," KELKAAAA!!!"

(I know I'm a freak).

Ad Nauseum

So I was catching up with some old friends and discussing relationships. They're both pretty thoughtful and take calculated risks with guys. I take calculated risks too, but I'm more likely to jump into something with a guy and be willing to endure the inevitable emotional backlash. And it's very easy for me to objectify men (if I decide not to from the beginning).

I think that deep, deep down, I'm more gay than straight. I don't want to get married or have kids, but if I were to do those things, I'd rather do them with a woman. I'd rather live with one too. The thought of pursuing all those traditional things with a man sounds unnatural and forced to me--but I haven't ruled out that option for myself completely either.

But my friends were telling me how they want to be more cautious and think things through with relationship choices. I'm not one to pursue just any dude, but maybe I am more laidback because I don't expect any guy to turn into something serious because he's a guy. But I can still click with males emotionally, intellectually, and physically. I'm not a fan of where I lie on Kinsey's scale.

Ironically, I don't have much interest in girls right now aside from making mental notes of which I do and don't think are cute. (Lately I just turn my head for femmy girls in boyish clothes---yum!) And what I really want is for the guy I stupidly blew off for my ex to take me back (which he might do) and/or let Clive Owen fuck my brains out. Buh?

And yet I'm still really pissed off at my ex for suddenly turning into a prick. I didn't expect us to last for very long, and I didn't love him, but I certainly didn't expect just plain sub-everything behavior from him either. I actually liked him and was willing to give his maleness a chance, and in the end, he ended up exemplifying some typical male asshole-type behaviors.

But I don't want to give up on anyone or close myself off to any possibility either.

All I do is contradict myself. I have a solution that blends tradition and queerness: I should marry a rich gay man. We could help each other pick the right boyfriends and outfits. And he could support the baby that me and my [insert pretentious voice] "lesbian lover" would raise.

If I had the patience, I would switch my "bisexuality" tag to "bisexuality is constant aggravation" or something to that effect.

And More Sex

So my talented friend writes for Flak Magazine, and she was asked to review the Sex and the City movie. I had already seen it, but I figured it’d be fun to see it with her. Plus, she had never seen the series, so I filled her in on the background info.

So we get tickets, and the girl who sells them to us is kinda cute, except her hair looked like mine before I found this. As we walk away, my friend points this out:

Friend: She’s cute
Me: Uh, maybe if she put some product in her hair.
Friend: You’re such a femme.
Me: [indignant] I am not! How?
Friend: Demanding she put product in her hair?
Me: Well she had poofy hair, and I take steps to keep my fro under control. Have you seen my hair without product?
Friend: Yes, it’s awesome.
Me: Well that’s your subjective opinion. And by “subjective,” I mean “demented.”

(We then went on to discuss enjoyable and not-so enjoyable blowjob-giving experiences. And, being the blowjob queen that I am, she asked me for advice. I’d say we’re both demented).

I don’t like being labeled as butch, but I also don’t like being labeled femme.

I also recently learned that Patricia Field, the fashion designer for Sex and the City, is a lesbian. That's kinda...embarrassing.