Drink up

Here's to beer. The one good thing about catching the Olympics tonight was this ad... oh and watching the fumbling Italians make up.

"I hate you, you're thin..."

Obsession is defined as a compulsive, often unreasonable idea or emotion. That said, I would like to dedicate this post to my confession of being somewhat obsessed with people’s appearance or in other words with their attractiveness. I am in no way, shape or form stating that I am a better or more important person than someone else because I happen to concern myself with the way people look. Some people find me attractive, some don’t. Just like others do to you. If I wasn’t myself, I would think I was more attractive than not, but that’s not my point. Plus that sounds really arrogant, and I’m honestly not that way. I simply believe everyone looks better from the inside out when the outside is taken care of. We’re talking style here people; not In Style as in the magazine, just stylish. I’ve been accused of sounding shallow and a bit harsh in some of my writing when discussing body parts, lesbians, and looks in general- guilty as charged. I like to look at the beautiful people. I may sound shallow and I am well aware of it, but unfortunately I carry some anger around the subject, so my language may sound a little harsh at times - I’m sorry if I offend anyone. This has to do with me and my own issues. When discussing the subject, I honestly never intend to make anyone feel badly about themselves; that’s your issue – own it.

For most of my life, (excluding the baby years) I have been judged because of my size, and it's strangely, usually anything but positive. I consider myself a very average woman: 5’4”, 105lbs. Some may consider this “tiny” but -whatever. Some have called me frail, or underweight, or unhealthy and have even accused me of being on cocaine. Most people assume I am a vegetarian or just never eat- at all, which is not true and the complete opposite. People have said they “hate me” because of how I look, but most of the time think I’m just going to: a) fall in the toilet or b) fly away in the wind. What the fuck! The toilet comment was actually directed towards my partner from a woman twice her size in width and completely consumed with the size of her own colossal ass! I am so tired of people constantly commenting on how thin I am when they are obviously tormented by it because they have an issue with their own weight or body image and I'm tired of it. I get it all the time and always from women wanting to put me down (literally) because the light I’m holding is just too damn bright for them. My anger erupts when I ever dare dream about telling someone how “fat” or unhealthy they are or how huge I think their ass is when they confront me. I would totally be considered an insensitive, superficial person. How dare I comment on their weight- I would never. But please feel free to say to us thin people, in one sentence, in the same breath: “I hate you! You're sooooo thin, are you o.k.?!” Because we’re thin and don't mind the fact, it feels as though anyone can say whatever the hell they want to us, but since overweight people have “an issue” no one is allowed to mention their size at all. Ever. It doesn't seem fair. My dad always used to say, “If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.” HELLO!!

Since I’ve been talking about lesbians lately and for some bizarre reason fascinated with everything surrounding them, I can’t help but talk about their attractiveness. Lesbos are stereotypically overweight and not overly bothered with their presentation. This is no secret. I’d like to believe this is “old school” mentality but when I attempted to break into the “community” a short time ago, unfortunately the improvised look was out, or in - loud and proud. And still is. Check out Ellen’s audience –not so pretty. It just seems to me that things need to start shifting. The "L Word" was a start, but things seem to be stuck. I’m sorry that I love looking at beautiful people and since I’m a lesbian I would like to look at other attractive lesbians. Period. If that makes me shallow than throw dirt on me-I’m down for the count. I am a very visual person and yes, it’s killing me not knowing what the hell everyone in this blogging world looks like, but if I enjoy what they have to say, what they happen to be wearing when they say it is irrelevant.

So I confess. To what I’m not sure, but I felt the need to say whatever it was I said. Superficial or not. At least I don’t wear my issues – I try to get rid of them. And again, I'm sorry if I have offended anyone out there - I can take the heat.

BIRTHDAY CHEER

Happy Valentine's Day to everyone, and a very happy birthday to ME. Yes, I was born on Valentine's Day, just as my mom predicted. She was convinced her third born was going to be a redhead born on Feb 14. She just knew. Cheers to love.
Gotta go enjoy the festivities...

Dazed and Confused

I feel like how my kitty looks: tired and dazed. And fuzzy.

I just found out that "Love Monkey" got cancelled. I loved that damn show. It wasn’t that it was a cancel all plans, stay at home great show- it was just entertaining. I used to work in the music business for a number of years so it was fun to watch a show about music. Good music.

Shit, I don’t get it. CBS sucks so I don’t think it should have been on that station to begin with; the only people who watch CBS are old folks and people obsessed with crime shows-whatever. But they didn’t even give Love Monkey a chance; it was only on like 4 times, what the hell! That young punk, Teddy Geiger was reason enough to keep the show on the air, that kid is fantastic. I don’t care if he’s twelve (he’s 17) because he sings like he’s living in the body of a 47 year old. The guy is intense and so way beyond his years it’s amazing. His timing is perfect since John Mayer is preoccupied with the blues scene we need another guy with a guitar and soft, intimate vocals. Teddy is as natural to the music scene as chocolate is to Valentines Day. Anyway my review of Teddy Geiger’s album will be posted on my other obsession next month.

So I guess the only reason I’ll tune into CBS will remain the same, because of Letterman. It upsets me when quality television doesn’t last and when I just can’t figure out why,like when "Felicity" went off the air- I don’t get it. On a totally different subject, I’m also a little confused today over long, puffy, winter coats. I’m sorry if I’m offending anyone out there but they really have never looked good on anyone; only make tall people look that much taller, heavy people heavier and frumpy people, well… sad. Plus unless you live in the arctic is it really necessary to cover your entire body with down? Although by the sound and sight of it SassyFemme seems like she might be able to use something like that these days. I Just don’t get long, puffy coats, I just don’t. And one last thing that’s bewildering me today is, where is the mad hatter? I’m starting to get worried because she hasn’t posted in over a week. Her mom’s sick so I’m just hoping it doesn’t have to do with that. I wish her well.

While I was trying to figure out the purpose of the puffy coat in the store today, I turned and noticed the first sign of spring: Sam Adams White Ale. It comes out before the summer brew- woo hoo!! That definately put a smile on my face. I'm done with winter.

Bally Ballyhoo

The circus on Saturday was great; free drinks, beautiful women, easy volunteer duties, free drinks, beautiful women, laughs galore and a short valet parking line. There was only one problem during the night and it came in the form of a verbal comment from some random, forty-something lesbian. The fact that she was forty something may have had something to do with it but I'm not sure of that.

Part of our job was to meet and greet and chat with the crowd and in the process ask them if they would like to be involved in a "singles" type game for the evening. All that was required of the participants was for them to wear a little sticker with a number on it and check "the post office board" throughout the evening to see if anyone had left them a note, or they could leave someone else a few words of admiration if they felt the urge. It was an anonymous way to tell a stranger how you felt about their lovely hair style, or shirt, or whatever. Pretty simple but also totally geared towards the single chicks. Most of the couples laughed at our offer to play and responded with “oh we’ve been together for 7, 8, 9, 10 or whatever years, as if they were dead people that had no need for a compliment. We responded with “so, we’ve been together for 14 years and we’re playing! Who cares if you’re in a committed relationship or married or ninety years old, everyone deserves and wants a few kind, complimenting words tossed their way-don’t they? Then again we were only playing because we were representatives of the sponsors. We were able to break some of the ladies down while others walked away with a grin on their face just from the mere thought of it. Whatever, I understand because if I was a guest there's no way I'd want to walk around with a number taped to me let alone be bothered with having to check anything- except my girlfriend.

The annoying comment came from one of the women who had been with her other half for 10 years and apparently no longer has any sex. When asked if they were interested in playing, they responded as if we were asking them to go into the back room with us and "play" with way more than compliments directed towards their pretty shirts. She kind of just laughed an evil, odd cackle then, after we told her how long we had been together said "oh, so you don't have sex either" What! What kind of response is that, it wasn't funny and I didn't like it.

I'm 40, and have been with my partner for 14 years and yes maybe we don't have sex like we used to; I've grown out of the kitchen chair routine and prefer a setting where crumbs or cold hard services aren’t involved. Plus I will also admit that due to such crazy, busy schedules, sex is just not the first thing on our minds, it's the second. I’m not sure why the comment rubbed me the wrong way; maybe it was because I’m a little sensitive about the subject lately. I’m a little stressed, o.k.? Regardless, I’m tired of people assuming things just because of their own issues.

I may be forty, but I look and drink alcohol like I’m twenty five, sleep like I’m fifteen, have a body of a… thirty year old? I don’t know about that one- I’m thin, I eat tons and have muscle tone (no sagging anything). I don’t have any children, have never been pregnant, will not wear a dress to a wedding just because I have boobs and have never worn high heels. I love electronic gadgets, big screen t.v.'s, watching sports and “fixing things”. I'll take beer without a glass, I need to hold the remote control, I enjoy working with men, and would rather take the money and run instead of planning "a wedding". I felt sorry for that women and her partner. They obviously aren't happy and feel a need to share it. Well, no thanks.

We ended up having sex the next night. Not that it's important.

It's the eyes

Question of the day: Shane or the boi toy Moira?

A night at the circus

In about an hour we are stepping out... to the circus. it should be an enjoyable evening, different to say the least. My partner and I have volunteered our time, it's the least we can do. A beer or two would be nice though, we'll see. Gotta go get dressed...

Here's some cake, now watch them eat it and get sick

When we first met her our immediate assumtion was that she had little knowledge of what she was entering into; it was just dinner with a bunch of women from various groups around the city, but we were weren't sure she was aware that we were all gay. Some were from the Rainbow, others were from Kindred Hearts, and a handful were not yet attached to anything or anyone. It was a chance to hook up and meet some new people, which we did.

I had an emmty seat to the right of me, so she landed there; she looked interesting, attractive, 30 something-ish, and very put together so I was fine with her her choice of seat. Since my partner was to my left full engaged in a conversation, as she typically is,I ended up talking to this women and pretty much this women only, for the entire dinner. She was telling me she was new to the city, came from New York, wanted to meet new people and then threw in she was bisexual. O.k., she said she was "bisexual" like I would say "I'll have another beer" to the waiter as he walked on by; it was just kind of tossed in to whatever we were discussing but not related to anything- strange, but I guess she needed to get it out there on the table. That's cool, I have no problem with people wanting to label themselves bisexual, sexuality is fluid, so whatever. Minutes later she threw in that she was "married", but gave no clue as to whether she was glued to a women or a man;I didn't want to assume anything so I didn't flinch, but my curiosity was peaked. As we continued on with the conversation she tossed in a man's name when referring to her other half. She said it, she was married to a man and since she said she was bisexual- also attracted to women. Great, now we have something to play with.

At first I was imagining one of two things: either her marriage to this man was unfulfilling and she needed to spice it up or, she knew she was actually gay and it was finally time to get out and test the waters. I was wrong on both. When she continued to babble on and on about how wonderful "he" was, and how many women she's actually been with and how lucky she was to have "him" be so understanding, I wanted to spit up. Now I was angry, but remained cool... I calmely asked her, "so why are you married????"- valid question, right?. She threw her long flowing black hair back and let out a nervous,but confident laugh. Here we go, apparently she's miss sexuality- excuse me. She's allowed to get married to this dude,have mad sex with him, go out to lunch the next day and have mad sex with her female friend and all's good. No problem she says,she's had many relations with the ladies, will continue to do so, has her husbands "blessing" and can live with zero concern that he wants to be with another-woman or man. He has expressed that over and over. He wants her and her only; no two on one, no two on two, no three on one, no nothin. Dude, what's the deal?! Apparently they had many friends back in New York who were in the exact same situation: married and looking for the juice bar- what the... But these other couples also had no problem with another couple joining them in bed. No problem.

Whatever, the subject angers me only because the world turns upside town when the gay marriage thing comes up. I don't get it. I really don't care what other people do with their lives, I may not be able to understand it but I could care less-untill I'm told that I can't do something I wish to do. I'm not going to go on and on about the subject, I don't have it in me at this moment. This particular women was out that night because she was looking for a potential sex partner. She loves to have sex with women(duh), misses it, and wants to always have it in her life. O.k., fine. Later in the evening we attended the "Capricorn" party, mingled with hundreds of lesbians and she was on her cell phone four times during the night talking to the husband, but still managed to make out with some chick with a cowboy hat on in the bathroom. But that's all.

The other night we went out to dinner with her and the husband. He was a great guy: down to earth, funny, pleasant, intelligent and decent looking. The conversation flowed, the food was fantastic, the service was exceptional, didn't receive any strange vibes, made plans with her to go to some lesbian event, ate our fortune cookies, payed the bill and went home. So normal on the outside, yet so funky on the inside, it just makes me wonder. But I can't help feeling sad at the same time. She didn't seem the same at dinner with him, her husband. Once again, just makes me more thankful for what I do have- even if I can't have it all.

Don't pull my string

Today at work my friends and I got onto a conversation about our favorite childhood toys. These were some of the more popular ones: colorforms, play kitchens, a "thumbelina" doll, transformers, plastic record players with those colored records, an easy bake oven, silly sand and shrinky dinks. The youngest in the group was 28 and the oldest was 41. The conversation was lighthearted and extremely humourous; the 28 year old guy is still obsessed with the one transformer he owned and the sticker book of his dreams which never made it into his little hands. Discussing childhood is a regular occurance for me; I think about it all the time, I've carried childlike traits into my adult world and can talk about it like it was an hour ago. I loved it and would go back in a second if I could. If you pull the string that's coming from thumbelina's back she'll cry - my string broke from too much pulling.

So the conversation today was very enjoyable to say the least, partly because it was just so damn fun to do on a Wednesday in February at two o'clock in the afternoon, but mostly because in that one moment I could feel everyones childish joy - even if their childhood was not necessarily joyful. It's kind of funny that it only took three posts on this so called "lesbian" blog to revert back to childhood. For the same reasons I stayed in my basement for hours listening to my records, I don't feel like I want any part of this "blogging" world for fear of not liking stuff I see out there. I remember feeling like this back in July, but told myself to use it as a tool. First of all, breaking into this world feels like being a new kid at recess, everyone's laughing, playing, making friends and knowingly ignoring others. Some kids are happy, some are sad, some sound confused or unsure of themselves and others are just so much into their own little playgroup to even realize the bell rang and it's time to head back inside.

I keep seeing the same blog on everyone's link list and I'm trying to figure out why. She's like the most popular chick in school. Just like old times, everyone always wants to be connected to the popular kid I guess. I feel pressure to post for fear of loosing any life line I may have created. My question is where the hell do these random people find the time to write as many words as they do? Maybe they don't watch T.V.?, have a job?. Maybe they don't have a life outside their own bedroom or a life inside their head that needs to get out of the bedroom. Who knows, but all I do know is that I don't have the time and I just can't keep up with the pace. Plus blogging feels somewhat empty to me at times.

It's been wonderful to make a mini connection to the mad hatter over there in London, she seems like such a wonderful, kind, soul- but I really have no idea. Maybe I'm just someone who needs that human connection. I don't like not being able to touch. I've also really enjoyed reading about other lesbians out there in the world, it's nice to know so many like the L Word for the same reasons I do. Who cares about the writing sometimes. I started this blog to complain, explain, and converse about and with other lesbians about issues surrounding us as a group. Help me out, because I know you're out there and now I know you can talk. If I was five again I'd hide in my basement, if I was 10, I'd play with the lonely kid on the swings, if I was twenty five I'd be the cool one walking by myself, but I'm no longer a kid and I'm trying to grow up.

If I had my easy bake oven I'd bake a cake and give it to my brother to devour. If I had my little thumbelina doll I'd pull her string, then hold her real close- almost sqish her, but instead I'll write. Or "blog".