I hate the word lesbian. Ugh. It just sounds yucky. Ever since I came out of my disorganized closet I have resented that word. I can't exactly explain why I don't like it. Perhaps for me it carries some negative stereotypes of the type of lesbians I can't stand. (Disclaimer: I don't like [most] lesbians.)
My friends made up a term for me. Gaydie. Gay+Lady. It seems to work. I just don't understand why you have to label everything. But I'm too out of shape to be jumping up on my soap box right now so I'll save that rant for later.
Anyway, I am starting to fear that my utter dislike for all things stereotypically lesbian is being compromised by the lesbian Mecca that is Noho. I was sure I was going to make it out alive when I managed to avoid the flannel phase. However, things started to go downhill when I bought a pair of work boots. I found myself rationalizing, "Well, they are quite practical for the unpredictable weather of New England. And really, they aren't that bad...I mean I'm not going from work boots to mountain dyke...right?!"
I still have the work boots. And I like them. But since I have gotten the work boots I have found myself wanting a cat. Now this my have something to do with my seemingly life-long decent into single-ness, but I fear that this yearning for a cat is this little lesbian monster inside me dying to come out (pun intended). I mean I think I would never decorate my life with rainbow kitty stickers or make shirts with pictures of me and my cats. But I just cannot be sure. I'm sure Boo Bear would intervene if I ever made it to that level of lesbian-ness, but he is 2 hours away...he might not see it coming.
Now, I would be more inclined to get a cat if this third factor didn't appear recently. I keep finding myself looking at Subaru cars. Yikes! I keep justifying it with the fact they are good cars with all wheel drive and quite safe. But oh the shame! I would really be a lesbian then. A cat lady, mountain dyke, in a Subaru. Or just a resident of Noho.
Sunday, October 31, 2010
Saturday, October 30, 2010
Excuse me, this is the women's room.
I have short hair. And I wear boys' attire. This leads most people that do not know me, to believe that I am male. This doesn't bother me and I never take offense. In fact, I usually think it is hysterical when it happens. My mom doesn't. Oh well. Here are some of my favorite run ins that have happened.
** I understand not everyone finds the humor in people messing up their genders. I also realize that this used to be a huge issue for the old time butches. I respect the strides they mad to make sure that the police are no longer dragging us out of bathrooms or bars due to our attire. However, I have made the personal decision to find the humor in my life. **
1. "Excuse me, this is the women's room!"
Ok so the first one isn't one set time. In fact this happens probably at least once a week. Usually it is old ladies. Sometimes it is little kids, but they usually just stare and run away when I smile. I never really know what to say. Sometimes I say, "oh really?! shit!" and run out of the room. Other times I say, "Oh I know!" in my girliest voice. Other times I just look at them at wait for their eyes to travel from my face, where they can't find facial hair, my throat, where there is no adam's apple, to my chest, where there is the slightest hint of two bumps, and finally to my pelvis, where there is no hint of a bump. Then they turn bright red, mutter their apologies and leave. This situation has also occurred over seas. In Spain a crazed woman at a bar started telling, "Es para chicas! Es para chicas!" To which I drunkenly responded, "Si, si, tengo titties!"
2. Oh my God, a sinner!
This was one of my favorites. I was in the church bathroom (I was home, I have to go to mass on Sundays when I'm home). I finished up in the stall and there was a grandmother waiting with her granddaughter. She saw me coming out of the stall, gasped, and covered her granddaughters eyes. I'm sure her inner monologue was something to the effect of, "Oh my God, a walking sin!! I do not want my pure grandchild exposed to this blasphemy!" However, out loud she said, "Young man, this is the women's room!" I calmly said, "I know...um, I am a girl." To which she responded, "Oh well you have short hair, that is confusing!" No apology. I guess she will save that for confession.
3. A scared southern belle.
While traveling down south I was using a bathroom at a rest stop. As I was walking out a little old southern belle of a lady was walking in. She saw me, screamed and ran out yelling, "Oh no, I just walked into the mens room!"She then saw the sign indicating that she was in fact in the right bathroom and then looked back at me, and back at the sign. I just stood there holding the door open until she finally decided it was safe to enter.
4. "Why aren't you a nice young man?!"
I don't believe chivalry is dead. I think its gay. I always hold the door open for the person behind me, especially if the person behind me is a nice old lady (that will probably yell at me later in the bathroom). So many times they look at me and say, "Well aren't you just a nice young man!" This also happened a lot when I was catering and we were required to wear shirt and ties. People would ask for the young man with the crab cakes and delightful smile (well, maybe I just imagine the smile part) and it would take my manager sometime to figure out they were asking for me. To which she would say, "Lower your voice so you don't offend them when they realize you aren't a man."
5. "Are you the only boy on the rugby team?"
This one is my personal favorite. At a graduation dinner for my friend I was seated next to her dear old grandmother. I love old ladies and talked with her most of the night. Now while my appearance is very male, my voice and my actions are not. In fact I'm usually confused for a gay man. But thats another story for another time. Anyway, I have been talking to grandma all night and had been introduced by my very female and not gender neutral at all first name. Towards the end of night grandma turns to me and asks so loudly I think the entire restaurant heard her, "So, are you the only boy on the rugby team?" For once I was floored on when to say. Not wanting to confuse her I chose to respond, "No, there are others...co-ed...yeah" Nice.
** I understand not everyone finds the humor in people messing up their genders. I also realize that this used to be a huge issue for the old time butches. I respect the strides they mad to make sure that the police are no longer dragging us out of bathrooms or bars due to our attire. However, I have made the personal decision to find the humor in my life. **
1. "Excuse me, this is the women's room!"
Ok so the first one isn't one set time. In fact this happens probably at least once a week. Usually it is old ladies. Sometimes it is little kids, but they usually just stare and run away when I smile. I never really know what to say. Sometimes I say, "oh really?! shit!" and run out of the room. Other times I say, "Oh I know!" in my girliest voice. Other times I just look at them at wait for their eyes to travel from my face, where they can't find facial hair, my throat, where there is no adam's apple, to my chest, where there is the slightest hint of two bumps, and finally to my pelvis, where there is no hint of a bump. Then they turn bright red, mutter their apologies and leave. This situation has also occurred over seas. In Spain a crazed woman at a bar started telling, "Es para chicas! Es para chicas!" To which I drunkenly responded, "Si, si, tengo titties!"
2. Oh my God, a sinner!
This was one of my favorites. I was in the church bathroom (I was home, I have to go to mass on Sundays when I'm home). I finished up in the stall and there was a grandmother waiting with her granddaughter. She saw me coming out of the stall, gasped, and covered her granddaughters eyes. I'm sure her inner monologue was something to the effect of, "Oh my God, a walking sin!! I do not want my pure grandchild exposed to this blasphemy!" However, out loud she said, "Young man, this is the women's room!" I calmly said, "I know...um, I am a girl." To which she responded, "Oh well you have short hair, that is confusing!" No apology. I guess she will save that for confession.
3. A scared southern belle.
While traveling down south I was using a bathroom at a rest stop. As I was walking out a little old southern belle of a lady was walking in. She saw me, screamed and ran out yelling, "Oh no, I just walked into the mens room!"She then saw the sign indicating that she was in fact in the right bathroom and then looked back at me, and back at the sign. I just stood there holding the door open until she finally decided it was safe to enter.
4. "Why aren't you a nice young man?!"
I don't believe chivalry is dead. I think its gay. I always hold the door open for the person behind me, especially if the person behind me is a nice old lady (that will probably yell at me later in the bathroom). So many times they look at me and say, "Well aren't you just a nice young man!" This also happened a lot when I was catering and we were required to wear shirt and ties. People would ask for the young man with the crab cakes and delightful smile (well, maybe I just imagine the smile part) and it would take my manager sometime to figure out they were asking for me. To which she would say, "Lower your voice so you don't offend them when they realize you aren't a man."
5. "Are you the only boy on the rugby team?"
This one is my personal favorite. At a graduation dinner for my friend I was seated next to her dear old grandmother. I love old ladies and talked with her most of the night. Now while my appearance is very male, my voice and my actions are not. In fact I'm usually confused for a gay man. But thats another story for another time. Anyway, I have been talking to grandma all night and had been introduced by my very female and not gender neutral at all first name. Towards the end of night grandma turns to me and asks so loudly I think the entire restaurant heard her, "So, are you the only boy on the rugby team?" For once I was floored on when to say. Not wanting to confuse her I chose to respond, "No, there are others...co-ed...yeah" Nice.
Monday, October 25, 2010
And so it begins...
Hello world!
Boo Bear (the token gay man in my life) told me I was funny. He said that I have a lot to say. The German agreed with him. I just speak the truth, perhaps with a bit of comedic license...
This blog is my life story. I will only write the truth, or at least how I perceive the truth.
It all started 24 years ago on a rainy day. I grew up in your typical suburban Irish Catholic family. I grew into, well...I don't exactly know what. Some would say lesbian (I HATE that word). I just say gay. Pretty much I look like a 12 year old boy. But I don't look like Justin Beiber (at least not any more).
This blog will not just be a gay blog. Although it will have gay stories, so readers beware.
I'm turning 24 tomorrow. I don't know how I feel about that. When you're 12 you don't think about your twenties. Well you think about turning 21 and drinking and college. What you don't think about are those awkward years between graduating college and becoming an adult. That's where I am right now. Turning 24, single, and poor.
This blog will not be a constant stream of whiney posts about how bad my life if. But we all have our days so, there might be some.
I am in between degrees right now. I tried a grad program, hated it, and quit. Graduate school drop out. But it was a good decision because I now know what I want to do. I work with kids with disabilities. To be honest, I think they are way cooler than typical kids.
This blog will contain stories of the kids I work with. Because quite frankly, they make my day almost every day.
I guess thats all for now. I'm not sure where this blog will go, or if it will ever really start. But here I am.
And so it begins...
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