I admit it. I'm a total girl about those silly online relationship articles and short personality/love/are you a good kisser?/what kind of duck would you be? quizzes that abound online and in magazines these days. I'd be a Mallard duck! I am a good kisser! Yes, my girlfriend would make me a meatloaf if I asked! I even read the straight girl ones about what guys want in bed, which are utterly and totally inapplicable to me, just because. Of course, I usually say "ewwww..." at some point, but they're still fun.
The other day I read a dating article written by a man that was actually not half bad. I guess he got the job somehow. Lesbian lessons? I'm not sure. The thing that stood out was "men need sex to feel close. Women need to feel close to have sex." I think he's pretty much got it nailed. Even those crazy one night stands, speaking for myself, were preceded with feeling listened to and liked, yet I'd never thought about it that way. Ironically, as I write, I have on a cable radio station with a guy repeating, over a heavy beat, "smack my bitch up, smack my bitch up!" Wow, what a turn on.
So, here are some ideas for new quizzes, for you quiz writers out there. Feel free to use any of them. Publish them in Cosmopolitan or on facebook! I don't even want any credit. This is a public service, legal bandit style. Ok, here we go!
"Are you still a caveman?"
"Are you not getting laid because you are an ass?"
"Are you a candidate for castration as you sleep?"
"Are you a slut?"
"Are you Republican because you're an asshole?"
"Are you really a drunk, like everyone says?"
"Is she really a bitch, or did she dump you because you're fucked up?"
"How long before your boobies sag?"
"Would your breath wilt a squirrel?"
"Does your arrest record weigh more than your pet?"
"Would you rather be right than happy?"
Just some ideas. I think people should know themselves. Of course, the question is what we do with that information. Too often I think people think "Oh, that's how I am" and use it as an excuse for bad behavior, like we're made of formica or something. Of course, it's all in what you want. Want to be right, dammit, and smack your bitch up? Be my guest. But don't come bitching to me when no decent women will sleep with you and people want to stab you in the head. I tried to tell you. You shoulda listened.
Saturday, March 14, 2009
Sunday, March 8, 2009
I'll love your potluck tomorrow
I'll miss the "L Word." It isn't that I know anyone who wears $300 bras, or looks like Jennifer Beals, or that any of the characters set terribly good examples. It's that otherwise, TV and movies have a serious dearth of lesbian relationships and sex. It just feels a little lonely to totally lack a reflection anymore.
There is an odd balance between a nod to a culture, to tradition, and to finding our own way. This weekend I went to a lesbian wedding. They got married in a church and wore white dresses. I, who desperately need lessons in wearing heels and what to do with a scarf, tried to help one of the brides figure out how to hold her flowers and walk and look a little less like a large tube of satin took her by surprise. I was the one eyed dyke in the land of the blind! Their mom/dads gave them away and they had a hotel reception and a first dance and everything. Of course, the first dance was, I think an unwitting nod, to lesbian drama, being "Will you still love me tomorrow?" I thought, "If you're wondering that, should we really be here, eating reception chicken?"
Far be it from me to deny any girl her white wedding, and I support any dyke who wants to have one wholeheartedly. It just isn't for me. I figure, if I'm far enough from tradition to do away with the fucking groom, what am I going to bust out a white wedding dress and a diamond for? Here's the plan. If my girl and I ever have a ceremony, I think we should go with evites and a potluck. Now, that's lesbian - a potluck! Lots of tofu and girls in pants! Maybe an herbal tea bar. Titanium rings of course, which I won't fuck up working on my truck and she won't fuck up trimming the hedges. We get flowers from the farmer's market and go camping for the honeymoon. Now that sounds like my kind of wedding.
But maybe the point is that we get to create our own traditions, or not. On the cutting edge of civil rights and politics, we get to decide what to take and what to keep on our own, at least so long as our churches and legislators will let us. What ultimately matters is that every day, I can look at girlfriend bandit, and say "Yes, I will love you tomorrow."
There is an odd balance between a nod to a culture, to tradition, and to finding our own way. This weekend I went to a lesbian wedding. They got married in a church and wore white dresses. I, who desperately need lessons in wearing heels and what to do with a scarf, tried to help one of the brides figure out how to hold her flowers and walk and look a little less like a large tube of satin took her by surprise. I was the one eyed dyke in the land of the blind! Their mom/dads gave them away and they had a hotel reception and a first dance and everything. Of course, the first dance was, I think an unwitting nod, to lesbian drama, being "Will you still love me tomorrow?" I thought, "If you're wondering that, should we really be here, eating reception chicken?"
Far be it from me to deny any girl her white wedding, and I support any dyke who wants to have one wholeheartedly. It just isn't for me. I figure, if I'm far enough from tradition to do away with the fucking groom, what am I going to bust out a white wedding dress and a diamond for? Here's the plan. If my girl and I ever have a ceremony, I think we should go with evites and a potluck. Now, that's lesbian - a potluck! Lots of tofu and girls in pants! Maybe an herbal tea bar. Titanium rings of course, which I won't fuck up working on my truck and she won't fuck up trimming the hedges. We get flowers from the farmer's market and go camping for the honeymoon. Now that sounds like my kind of wedding.
But maybe the point is that we get to create our own traditions, or not. On the cutting edge of civil rights and politics, we get to decide what to take and what to keep on our own, at least so long as our churches and legislators will let us. What ultimately matters is that every day, I can look at girlfriend bandit, and say "Yes, I will love you tomorrow."
Monday, March 2, 2009
Queer advice for the straight guy
I feel bad for straight guys. Recently I found myself freezing outside at a funeral and a guy I know offered me his jacket, which of course I took because I was freezing my ass off. Later we got into a conversation about how confusing it is to be a guy these days - open the door, or not? Offer to help carry stuff, or not? Guys are already operating at a deficit where women are concerned and I guess changing up the rules is pretty hard on them. It's not like they adjust easily anyway. Hey,maybe I'll adopt one! He can mow my yard and I'll call him George.
I do have a couple of long standing straight male friends who do pretty well. Otherwise, based on my experience wanting to strangle men and listening to straight women bitch, it appears that most guys desperately need a lesbian lesson. They storm around and have no idea what they're stomping on. Therefore, in thanks for the jacket at the funeral, I'm here offering a few basic lessons in girl 101 for you husbands, boyfriends, employers, employees, family members and general idiots. I promise it will not shrink your weenie to stop pretending you know everything for a minute.
Lesson one: You do not know everything. That's OK. STOP IT. That know all shit is really, really annoying.
Two: In a relationship, winning is almost always really losing. Next time you are pushing a point, ask yourself this - would you rather be right, or happy? Then shut the hell up. We aren't like guys; we don't argue the point then get over it like a soccer match. We tell you how we feel and if you keep pushing, you may get your way, but it will be very, very expensive. I'm not saying bend over. I'm saying listen and quit trying to shove things down her throat she's already spit out.
Three: What women want most is not money, power, security or your dick. That's what you want. Security is on the list, but it doesn't mean what you think. What women want most is to be listened to. Really listened to - not that shit where you get half drunk or jacked up on coffee, ask a question, listen for what you want to hear or evidence to support your argument for some retarded shit later, interrupt, take what you heard out of context then use it to your own advantage. That's not listening. It's creating fantasies of stabbing you. Try this: drink less beer and coffee. Be ready to be surprised and give up the notion you have to win anything. Ask a question about something she's interested in. Don't interrupt or get in your head strategizing. Look at her face, not her boobs. Think about what she said. Ask a related question. You will learn a lot this way and are far less likely to be stabbed.
Four: You can't even make all the rules with a lawnmower engine. What makes you think you get to make the rules with people? Get off your throne. You are not king. You do not get to do what the hell you want and expect everyone else to deal with it. "I yam what I yam" didn't even fly for a cartoon character. And you definitely can't expect to get away with whatever you want,complain about what another person does and expect them to give a fuck about how you feel. Play fucking fair. You are not made of rock - I mean steel - oh wait, I can't think of a single thing that isn't capable of change! Now grow the hell up and start relating if you want a relationship.
Five: Get some trimmers. Seriously. That nose and ear hair is NOT cute and yes, women notice. Clip your nails. Get some breath strips, especially if you smoke. Do some situps. That gut hanging over your belt? I don't know a ton of straight chicks, but none of them find it sexy.
Six: Security doesn't mean riding in on a white horse or paying for stuff. It means being there. See all those poor guys/girls with women totally in love with them? Yeah. Money and help are great, and financial stability is really important to some of us who do not want to pay your bills. But, they are not, ultimately, what women need. We need to know our partners will stick by us when the shit hits the fan; that they can be faithful, care enough about us to listen, will listen, can listen, (real listening, not the grab something and use it later like we're on fucking trial "listening"), believe in us, support us, care about our kids and pets, care about our welfare, will think to offer a jacket in the cold or pick up soup when we have a cold. That's security.
Of course, I generalize, and some women think all they want is another hit of crack or money enough to not depend on some neanderthal who treats women like they can be bought. But maybe this will help some dude who really is trying. I'm sure there are a few out there somewhere, loaning their jackets in the cold, and trying really hard to pay attention. Good luck guys, because this is definitely not a man's world.
I do have a couple of long standing straight male friends who do pretty well. Otherwise, based on my experience wanting to strangle men and listening to straight women bitch, it appears that most guys desperately need a lesbian lesson. They storm around and have no idea what they're stomping on. Therefore, in thanks for the jacket at the funeral, I'm here offering a few basic lessons in girl 101 for you husbands, boyfriends, employers, employees, family members and general idiots. I promise it will not shrink your weenie to stop pretending you know everything for a minute.
Lesson one: You do not know everything. That's OK. STOP IT. That know all shit is really, really annoying.
Two: In a relationship, winning is almost always really losing. Next time you are pushing a point, ask yourself this - would you rather be right, or happy? Then shut the hell up. We aren't like guys; we don't argue the point then get over it like a soccer match. We tell you how we feel and if you keep pushing, you may get your way, but it will be very, very expensive. I'm not saying bend over. I'm saying listen and quit trying to shove things down her throat she's already spit out.
Three: What women want most is not money, power, security or your dick. That's what you want. Security is on the list, but it doesn't mean what you think. What women want most is to be listened to. Really listened to - not that shit where you get half drunk or jacked up on coffee, ask a question, listen for what you want to hear or evidence to support your argument for some retarded shit later, interrupt, take what you heard out of context then use it to your own advantage. That's not listening. It's creating fantasies of stabbing you. Try this: drink less beer and coffee. Be ready to be surprised and give up the notion you have to win anything. Ask a question about something she's interested in. Don't interrupt or get in your head strategizing. Look at her face, not her boobs. Think about what she said. Ask a related question. You will learn a lot this way and are far less likely to be stabbed.
Four: You can't even make all the rules with a lawnmower engine. What makes you think you get to make the rules with people? Get off your throne. You are not king. You do not get to do what the hell you want and expect everyone else to deal with it. "I yam what I yam" didn't even fly for a cartoon character. And you definitely can't expect to get away with whatever you want,complain about what another person does and expect them to give a fuck about how you feel. Play fucking fair. You are not made of rock - I mean steel - oh wait, I can't think of a single thing that isn't capable of change! Now grow the hell up and start relating if you want a relationship.
Five: Get some trimmers. Seriously. That nose and ear hair is NOT cute and yes, women notice. Clip your nails. Get some breath strips, especially if you smoke. Do some situps. That gut hanging over your belt? I don't know a ton of straight chicks, but none of them find it sexy.
Six: Security doesn't mean riding in on a white horse or paying for stuff. It means being there. See all those poor guys/girls with women totally in love with them? Yeah. Money and help are great, and financial stability is really important to some of us who do not want to pay your bills. But, they are not, ultimately, what women need. We need to know our partners will stick by us when the shit hits the fan; that they can be faithful, care enough about us to listen, will listen, can listen, (real listening, not the grab something and use it later like we're on fucking trial "listening"), believe in us, support us, care about our kids and pets, care about our welfare, will think to offer a jacket in the cold or pick up soup when we have a cold. That's security.
Of course, I generalize, and some women think all they want is another hit of crack or money enough to not depend on some neanderthal who treats women like they can be bought. But maybe this will help some dude who really is trying. I'm sure there are a few out there somewhere, loaning their jackets in the cold, and trying really hard to pay attention. Good luck guys, because this is definitely not a man's world.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Stimulate this
Obama's speech last night laid out some pretty ambitious plans. Not like winning at beer pong, or farting quietly in public - I mean real ambitions. He also seems to get that waving a flag at things doesn't make them good. We seem to have forgotten that. Torture prisoners? No-bid contracts for politician's buddies? Government overseers of the oil companies getting coked up with the CEOs? Barely literate cowboy for president? Wave a flag! It will magically be just great! Dear Republicans: the flag is not magic. Have you seen a bunny fly out of your ass? It's because it is n-o-t m-a-g-i-c.
I am still not so sure I support the economic stimulus package, though. It's treating greedy CEOS like rich frat boys who fuck up all they want then get bailed out when things go bad. How the fuck are they going to learn? If you're gonna let companies gamble, you got to let them lose.
I still think there's lots of ways to save money, though, and get the country back on track. Here are a few of my ideas.
1. Bitch slap every company owner who shut down a plant here then opened one in bum fuck egypt where they can pay slave laborers fourteen cents a day so they can be grossly, obscenely rich instead of just obscenely rich. Then tax them the exact amount that they are saving on labor by doing that shit. Give the money to the people who would have had the jobs.
2. Legalize drugs and prostitution and tax that shit. $4 tax on a blowjob. Etc. We'll pay off the deficit in like 6 months. Unfortunately, I'll be out of a job.
3. Let people actually bid on government jobs. Ahem.
4. Fine people for non violent crimes and stop locking them up. You know what happens when you lock them up? They lose their jobs and stop paying taxes. You know how much money it takes to run a jail? Wardens, guards, water, heat, air conditioning, maintenance, sewage, electricity, uniforms, cameras, other technology, food. . . it's fucking expensive. Does the guy with the weed really need to be in there instead of at his cook job? Really?
5. Actually give out fashion tickets. $500 fine for having a mullet. $250 for acid washed jeans. $1,000 for a haircut with "wings". $100 for shorts with knee high white socks. $800 for having a big ass sticking out of a miniskirt.You get the idea.
6. Take away people's cars who go 90 on the freeway weaving in and out of traffic. Sell them. If they are passing on the right, make them wash the cars before we sell them and spray some of that smell good stuff in there, which they must buy themselves.Screw those assholes. If I stop writing in my blog, it's probably because one of them caused a wreck on my way to work. Jerks.
7. $10,000 fine for dropping out of high school. No money? Work it off picking up trash on the highway. Maybe when you scrape up enough possums you'll get your ass to English class.
8. No more handing out cash to corporations to help them expand and advertise and stay open and shit. Don't know how to run a business? Don't run one.
9. No more sick sized bonuses for the assholes who sit in board rooms and vote to pay shit to their workers and only give out 2% raises while they pay themselves $45 million a year. Cap their salaries and let the people who do the work have the money. Maybe they could keep one house each over their heads. Big shot does not need seven homes while other people are getting foreclosed on, I don't care what he says.
10. Let gay people marry and adopt children, creating more stable homes, less kids in government-sponsored foster care, more two income houses, more families buying family stuff, less volunteer money going to stupid organizations who hate us because it will be pointless.
Just some ideas, but the message he's rocking and the word I am sending is that it is HIGH motherfucking time for some reform. Jump on the bandwagon, y'all, a new country is hopefully about to leave the station.
I am still not so sure I support the economic stimulus package, though. It's treating greedy CEOS like rich frat boys who fuck up all they want then get bailed out when things go bad. How the fuck are they going to learn? If you're gonna let companies gamble, you got to let them lose.
I still think there's lots of ways to save money, though, and get the country back on track. Here are a few of my ideas.
1. Bitch slap every company owner who shut down a plant here then opened one in bum fuck egypt where they can pay slave laborers fourteen cents a day so they can be grossly, obscenely rich instead of just obscenely rich. Then tax them the exact amount that they are saving on labor by doing that shit. Give the money to the people who would have had the jobs.
2. Legalize drugs and prostitution and tax that shit. $4 tax on a blowjob. Etc. We'll pay off the deficit in like 6 months. Unfortunately, I'll be out of a job.
3. Let people actually bid on government jobs. Ahem.
4. Fine people for non violent crimes and stop locking them up. You know what happens when you lock them up? They lose their jobs and stop paying taxes. You know how much money it takes to run a jail? Wardens, guards, water, heat, air conditioning, maintenance, sewage, electricity, uniforms, cameras, other technology, food. . . it's fucking expensive. Does the guy with the weed really need to be in there instead of at his cook job? Really?
5. Actually give out fashion tickets. $500 fine for having a mullet. $250 for acid washed jeans. $1,000 for a haircut with "wings". $100 for shorts with knee high white socks. $800 for having a big ass sticking out of a miniskirt.You get the idea.
6. Take away people's cars who go 90 on the freeway weaving in and out of traffic. Sell them. If they are passing on the right, make them wash the cars before we sell them and spray some of that smell good stuff in there, which they must buy themselves.Screw those assholes. If I stop writing in my blog, it's probably because one of them caused a wreck on my way to work. Jerks.
7. $10,000 fine for dropping out of high school. No money? Work it off picking up trash on the highway. Maybe when you scrape up enough possums you'll get your ass to English class.
8. No more handing out cash to corporations to help them expand and advertise and stay open and shit. Don't know how to run a business? Don't run one.
9. No more sick sized bonuses for the assholes who sit in board rooms and vote to pay shit to their workers and only give out 2% raises while they pay themselves $45 million a year. Cap their salaries and let the people who do the work have the money. Maybe they could keep one house each over their heads. Big shot does not need seven homes while other people are getting foreclosed on, I don't care what he says.
10. Let gay people marry and adopt children, creating more stable homes, less kids in government-sponsored foster care, more two income houses, more families buying family stuff, less volunteer money going to stupid organizations who hate us because it will be pointless.
Just some ideas, but the message he's rocking and the word I am sending is that it is HIGH motherfucking time for some reform. Jump on the bandwagon, y'all, a new country is hopefully about to leave the station.
Sunday, February 22, 2009
You can take the girl out of the trailer park, but . . .
Defendants may, overall, be irresponsible, short sighted, drunk, dishonest, and consider violence a viable means of problem solving, but they are my people. It isn't that I fight, drink, lie, steal or find myself utterly unable to foresee the consequences of my actions - for the most part. It's just that I understand.
I credit my upbringing. One of my great accomplishments is that I got through high school without getting in a fight. You may not think much of this. Let's draw a picture. My fondest memories are riding around with my bare feet sticking out of the window of a Camaro with a big joint in one hand and Mountain Dew in the other with Led Zeppelin playing really loud, on the way to the store to get Moon pies, then to cruise around aimlessly or maybe look for drugs. Yes, we were rednecks. People kept shotguns and were wont to bust out the trailer with one in hand if you showed up in a strange truck. I'm assuming cellphones have helped a lot, for those of them who can pay up their minutes.
My family was not unusual, so I don't know where I learned better. I was born in a trailer and encouraged to kick ass whenever appropriate, I just never really found it to be appropriate. My sister, on the other hand, caught on quickly. Once, some girl showed up at the house intending to beat up my sister, which was just a terrible idea, since she could probably single handedly conquer Afghanistan. The chick pulled up in the driveway, got out and cussed until sister bandit heard her, who promptly went flying out the side door and screamed (insert awesome southern accent)"Get the hell out of here, ya big-footed, hairy bitch!" Of course, the girl didn't leave, so sister bandit kicked her ass all over the front yard. Another time, my father lent her his car to go get in a fight, since she apparently needed to go teach some girl a lesson for something involving her boyfriend J.T. and could simply not put this off until her rusty Escort was running again. About an hour later, she came back without a scratch, but was holding her wrist. My dad, who was watching Nascar,, looked up and asked how she'd gotten hurt, with a subtle tone sugggesting she'd better not have lost - he taught her better. She explained she was so mad when she got back in the car, she slammed her hand on the dash and bruised it. Satisfied his progeny had prevailed, he dispensed the fatherly advice "well, that was stupid. You should have gotten back out and hit her again!" then returned to watching the race.
Knowing at some level something was just not right with this picture, I quietly resolved to get the hell out of Dodge when I turned 18.
However, the education has come in handy. I don't get surprised. Of course I understand that when the crack ran out, you had to drive a borrowed car without a license and go steal some things because you needed more, and of course when the car was wrecked, you had to just leave it there, since getting caught would mean getting that old warrant served. Well, duh, what else would you do? Of course when the bitch showed up with your baby daddy and started talking shit, you naturally busted a beer bottle and went after her. Bitch has to learn a lesson, right? Girl got her pride. I think it makes me a better lawyer. At any rate, it gets me through the day and when the clients find me in a sea of stuffy white guys, they know that someone, somewhere, outside the trailer park does, in fact, understand.
I credit my upbringing. One of my great accomplishments is that I got through high school without getting in a fight. You may not think much of this. Let's draw a picture. My fondest memories are riding around with my bare feet sticking out of the window of a Camaro with a big joint in one hand and Mountain Dew in the other with Led Zeppelin playing really loud, on the way to the store to get Moon pies, then to cruise around aimlessly or maybe look for drugs. Yes, we were rednecks. People kept shotguns and were wont to bust out the trailer with one in hand if you showed up in a strange truck. I'm assuming cellphones have helped a lot, for those of them who can pay up their minutes.
My family was not unusual, so I don't know where I learned better. I was born in a trailer and encouraged to kick ass whenever appropriate, I just never really found it to be appropriate. My sister, on the other hand, caught on quickly. Once, some girl showed up at the house intending to beat up my sister, which was just a terrible idea, since she could probably single handedly conquer Afghanistan. The chick pulled up in the driveway, got out and cussed until sister bandit heard her, who promptly went flying out the side door and screamed (insert awesome southern accent)"Get the hell out of here, ya big-footed, hairy bitch!" Of course, the girl didn't leave, so sister bandit kicked her ass all over the front yard. Another time, my father lent her his car to go get in a fight, since she apparently needed to go teach some girl a lesson for something involving her boyfriend J.T. and could simply not put this off until her rusty Escort was running again. About an hour later, she came back without a scratch, but was holding her wrist. My dad, who was watching Nascar,, looked up and asked how she'd gotten hurt, with a subtle tone sugggesting she'd better not have lost - he taught her better. She explained she was so mad when she got back in the car, she slammed her hand on the dash and bruised it. Satisfied his progeny had prevailed, he dispensed the fatherly advice "well, that was stupid. You should have gotten back out and hit her again!" then returned to watching the race.
Knowing at some level something was just not right with this picture, I quietly resolved to get the hell out of Dodge when I turned 18.
However, the education has come in handy. I don't get surprised. Of course I understand that when the crack ran out, you had to drive a borrowed car without a license and go steal some things because you needed more, and of course when the car was wrecked, you had to just leave it there, since getting caught would mean getting that old warrant served. Well, duh, what else would you do? Of course when the bitch showed up with your baby daddy and started talking shit, you naturally busted a beer bottle and went after her. Bitch has to learn a lesson, right? Girl got her pride. I think it makes me a better lawyer. At any rate, it gets me through the day and when the clients find me in a sea of stuffy white guys, they know that someone, somewhere, outside the trailer park does, in fact, understand.
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Vote for me
I used to want to have an exciting life. I've changed my mind about this. Lately I've been privy to dyke drama including, in no particular order: amateur porn, public servants, a butcher knife, a broken beer bottle, an anonymous letter, drunk texting, and a slanderous internet questionarre. I don't particularly know most of these people, I just learn a lot by being in the right place at the wrong time. I've decided turning into a pumpkin at 10:30 and having girlfriend bandit get on me to eat more vegetables is really a fine little life. And it isn't even like "bitch, eat some damn carrots or I'm gonna cut you!" or like "Gimme those potato chips before I kick your ass!" or anything like that. It's just run of the mill encouragement to pack a lunch instead of having a velveeta cheeseburger, though I really do like the velveeta cheesburger, especially with a chocolate shake and a nap in my office. Sigh. Today I had mashed potatoes and turnip greens. And I'm not even fat.
What is it about lesbians that draws such drama? We can leap tall boundaries with a single bound; fall in love at boob-thundering speed; grow an emotional briar patch in like 9 minutes flat. Here's what I propose - we use our powers for good! All the lesbians of the world should unite their emotional powers and change the world over night. We could have the israelis and palestinians singing along to poorly arranged guitar ballads, have everyone in the world adopt a kitten/puppy/weird bird and through their love of that pet, embrace environmentalism and stop climate change; glue together the polar ice cap; help North Korea realize all they really need is love and feed the hungry with good, homegrown vegetables from co-op gardens. And if we can do these things half as fast as we can meet a new girl and practically move in with her, the world's biggest problems would be solved by next Tuesday - Wednesday tops.
Therefore, I am officially throwing my hat into the ring as mayor of the world. I will immediately order less clothing for hot chicks and that all hairy men wax their backs, then get on to the rapid business of reforming the earth by redirecting lesbians away from butcher knives and toward falling in love with the world. We would all be living together harmoniously with 175 billion kittens in no time. Vote for me! Our time has come! Just make sure the election results are in by 10:30 or so, because I'm going to bed.
What is it about lesbians that draws such drama? We can leap tall boundaries with a single bound; fall in love at boob-thundering speed; grow an emotional briar patch in like 9 minutes flat. Here's what I propose - we use our powers for good! All the lesbians of the world should unite their emotional powers and change the world over night. We could have the israelis and palestinians singing along to poorly arranged guitar ballads, have everyone in the world adopt a kitten/puppy/weird bird and through their love of that pet, embrace environmentalism and stop climate change; glue together the polar ice cap; help North Korea realize all they really need is love and feed the hungry with good, homegrown vegetables from co-op gardens. And if we can do these things half as fast as we can meet a new girl and practically move in with her, the world's biggest problems would be solved by next Tuesday - Wednesday tops.
Therefore, I am officially throwing my hat into the ring as mayor of the world. I will immediately order less clothing for hot chicks and that all hairy men wax their backs, then get on to the rapid business of reforming the earth by redirecting lesbians away from butcher knives and toward falling in love with the world. We would all be living together harmoniously with 175 billion kittens in no time. Vote for me! Our time has come! Just make sure the election results are in by 10:30 or so, because I'm going to bed.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Inside the U-Haul
I have a couple friends in new relationships, (read: moved in but don't know each other's middle names) and girlfriend bandit has an old friend getting married to some girl she's known like five minutes. Lesbians. What is it about us that makes us get involved at the speed of flying pool balls? "Hi! What's your name? I love you! Hey, Anne, this is my new girlfriend! It's different this time. Can you help us move?" I suspect that double estrogen works like some potent drug. I know boobies aren't magic because guys don't act like this. They are really good about slowing things the fuck down; a butt scratch, noting that she's cool enough to sleep with again,then remembering the game is on with a mental note to call by like Tuesday or something.
There may be an advantage, though, of not knowing someone - you don't have expectations that get let down when people change, because people do change, and sometimes drastically. Hiking boots gather dust. The bookworm starts watching basketball. The hippie discovers a competitive edge. The gardener stops saying "I want to live off the grid" and gets interested in luxury vacations. Drunks sober up and introverts start wanting to go party. A few years in, you might hardly recognize your girl as the one you took home, played folk music on your futon for and moved in over your cat's objection.
I think this is where it matters whether love is a verb or a noun. Hear me out here. Love as a noun is very subjective. We feel love, we are in love, we glow and gush to our friends, and all that is great, but is a booby-soft pink cloud of love that just doesn't cut it to get you through everyday life for long. Then there is the verb, to love. To give something that matters of yourself. To show up when you don't want to, listen though you're tired, give her a chance to work her issues out though you really don't understand them, and maybe just to stop and ask if you're being respectful, supportive and kind. I think as lesbians we get really caught up in what we want to feel, which is necessary and great, but sometimes forget to pay attention to the love we do.
I'm not saying stick together when she's changed so much she doesn't hit all 5 of your top five requirements for a mate. Hey, if you really need someone who will play with your monkeys and she develops a deep dislike of all poop-throwing primates, though I've no idea why that would happen, by all means move on! I'm just saying that it is what you do that matters. My dad got in a car wreck a couple years ago and girlfriend bandit drove out to sit with him in the hospital for weeks in a row - without being asked. That was when she truly won me over; what she did showed me dedication, loyalty and a willingness to go out of her way for me and for my family, who are really important to me, though you'd never know it by how bad I suck at calling. It's that kind of stuff that gets you through the times when the pink cloud is black and shitting sleet on you and you have to scrape and scrape to get the ice off your car and realize you have a crappy scraper and then that it is Saturday and you didn't have to go to work after all and put on a suit and went out in the sleet for nothing. You know, those days.
And that is my valentine's day message: if you're going to rescue some kittens together, make sure to do some stuff that gets you through the dirty litterbox days. Years later, you'll be glad.
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