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.

And I Love My Sex

So I saw the Sex and the City movie on Friday. I enjoyed it. I squealed when it started; I gasped with fear when Mr. Big was about to make anothe fuck-up; I aww'ed at Charlotte's daughter Lily. My friend and I repeatedly gripped each other when the plot started to thicken. I love how the theater was 98% females. And I loved cringing at the fashions that were hideous.

It was basically one big estrogen fest, and it reminded me of how much I can love female-ness. Drama, gossip, overanalyzing romantic interactions, being petty. It can be tiring, but I like it. I get that fix from Desperate Housewives and The L Word too.

At the same time, I felt far removed from some of the hetero norms (e.g. the guy getting down on one knee and paying for a place to live) that I don't really relate to. And I have no idea if the fashion is considered good taste by straight women--isn't most of fashion dictated by gay men anyways?

But I like how Samantha returned to her true identity of being a floater; not every female wants to be committed forever. And I like how Carrie and Big got a simple, legal marriage in the end instead of a frivolous, ostentatious freak show.

I vote that Kelka podcasts about the Sex and the City movie!