Don't Call Me Guido!

Last night I felt oppressed by a straight man. It was the first time in a very long time that this had happened to me. And the worst part about it? I knew it wasn't him doing the oppressing, but me. I saw his macho attitude and his trophy wife and started to feel very different. So what did I do... I listened to him talk and I felt better.

While Guido 1 and Guido 2 talk to each other I realize that while they both may be very intelligent, well behaved people, their accent successfully makes them sound.. well Guido-ish (macho, dumb, and vain). This is a Bon Jovi concert and it's me who in the end feels out of place. Not that Guido would feel out of place anywhere, cause I'm not sure yet whether he's even aware there are other people in the world. There is still something so unsettling to be a in a room (or for heaven's sake an arena) that is 65%-75% men, and not gay men, but men men. The kind that scratches their balls and puts their arm over their trophy to show to the other men men.

A friend said to me today, (in regards to my recent relationship behavior), "You just have to come to terms with the fact that you're a dude." I will never be a dude, to the extent that these guys are dudes. I think that's what gets me, while I definitely do not want to be a man, there is something about being that "strong" and believing so strongly that you were put here to be a blessing unto everyone, that makes for a very powerful existence. I think a lot of us are really annoyed by that attitude of "I'm god's great gift to women, look at this hair, look at this muscle, look at my car, and look at this hair!", yet at the same time I have to admit that sometimes being that confident is an attractive idea. It does seem to me that they get to do what they want, when they want, more often than most of us. Maybe if we took that kind of attitude more often, the "we are god's great gift to women, look at my pick-up, look at my style, look at my charm" maybe more people would stop questioning our being here, because we would stop questioning ourselves.

Dog days and sad gays

By now most of you have probably gotten a whiff of the Ellen/Iggy debacle. For those of you who haven't heard anything about it, you might want to catch up. Basically Ellen adopted a dog, Ellen couldn't keep the dog for whatever reason, Ellen gave the dog to a friend's family. Moms, Mutts & Madness, or whatever their name is, came and took the dog back from the family, stating that Ellen had signed an agreement that she would not give the dog away. The family is heartbroken, Ellen is devastated, and the agency is trying not to have itself burned down, nor the employees harmed.

Let me first state that I think the agency has their heads up their bums about this whole thing and if the family already has a dog that is well taken care of and no young children that would mistreat it, so what if the dog went to a different home than the one originally assigned to it. But here it is, I can understand how the agency feels, whether or not the family was a good family, someone of Ellen's position should know what she is signing at all times and follow procedure to avoid situations such as this one. (And definitely not end up crying on her own daytime television show about the issue). If the agreement was that she would not give the dog away without proper notice to the agency, then she shouldn't have. But stop me, I'm getting away from my original point which was that how I found out about this whole thing threw me into a sort of rage, not because of the ridiculousness of the situation, not because of the fact that Ellen sobbed on national television about the damned dog, but because the radio talk show host that was talking about it said that the reason Ellen had acted in such a way was the she was a lesbian and that lesbians have had horrible childhoods and were messed up from their childhoods on, so Ellen had identified with the family's little girl and that's the reason she was SO upset about the little girl being upset. WHAT??

First of all, I probably shouldn't have been as shocked or pissed as I was when I heard this bullshit. Dennis and Judi are radio personalities on NJ talk radio 101.5 and they come on every day around midday. Usually I'm at work by the time they come on and they are long gone when I have the pleasure of coming home. The few times I have caught them, they have mostly been funny, kind of crazy, don't always agree with them types, but good to listen to. I have only heard Dennis talk about gay people (lesbians included) once before, and that time it was no different. He's very open about the fact that he does not accept gays as a part of the community, whether normal or not. He truly believes that we are all products of bad childhoods, and when he talks about us if someone calls in to defend the gay community he basically calls them crazy and hangs up on them. He also denounces the idea that he's homophobic or in any other way against gay people. And I believe him.... to an extent.

Sometimes I have this feeling that when told by someone that we are not normal, that we should not be allowed to marry, etc. Our immediate reaction is to label that person "homophobic" or someone who hates gays. In the vein of this example, Dennis is the perfect subject. Dennis believes that we are who we are, because every one of us has in some way or another, rebelled against our very f-ed up childhoods. He doesn't blame us, or take fault with us, in fact to him it may seem like a very natural reaction, but at the same time it doesn't make us worthy of the ability to be married, I mean hey, if we just worked out our issues we probably wouldn't be wanting other girls anyway. There is an inherent flaw in his argument however, which is that not all of us had f-d childhoods, and even if we did, that really makes us no different than those straight people who had f-ed up childhoods as well.

I think there is an entire population of people out there, who don't hate us, are not scared of us, but will never accept us as long as they can rationalize why we are the way we are with reasons like child molestation, rape, dad leaving home when we were young, mom not being a strong role model, etc. It is not fear or hate that drives them but the inability to see the real reasons we are who we are. In the end, they explain away our existence with their own reasons, because they never stop long enough to listen to ours. The hope, or at least my hope, is that we can all slow down long enough to hear each other and understand each other, because no matter the reasons that we're here... to quote a great gay slogan "we're here and we're queer." And that's not about to change.

What? Being homosexual isn't a disease? That can't be possible.

I would like you to think back to when you came out. What was your experience? How did your family react? Do they all know now? How did your friends react? How did your friend's parents react? Probably more important than any of this, is how did you react?

I came out at the Union Underground in Austin, TX. I was with my parents. I told them that I thought that I was bi. This was my way of easing them into the whole idea. I was 15 years old. They were shocked, angry, upset, sad, and in disbelief. There would be no easing them into anything, they were building a wall before my very eyes. My mother said that I was being ridiculous and probably acting out my issues with men. Therapy would help.

My father.. its funny actually, I don't remember what he said or did. I think it must have been that bad. So bad that I can't remember him being there, although I know he was. My mom did all the talking, ironic since it was I who was coming out and not my mother, but still she took control and told me how it was going to be. It didn't last very long, I was back in the closet in about 15 minutes. I spent the next year of my life trying to figure out why I had thought I was gay, when my mom told me that it was just problems I was having. I even went so far as dating another girl to figure out what was wrong, well maybe not figure it out, maybe that was just the excuse I used. We hid it from everyone, it was scary and exciting all at the same time. Now looking back at it, it was mostly just hard. Emotional rollercoaster everyday.

After the year had passed and I was still pretty sure of how gay I am, I started to inch back out of the closet, maybe this time if I don't jump out and go "haha, here I am, super gay!", my parents will take it better. Plus a year had passed and if I were still sure that I was gay, they must see it as a sign, right? Nope, just a phase, a very very long phase. While I think my parents and I have never been the same, it's been 8 years and we are moving closer to that point of understanding.

As far as friends were concerned, it was hard because I had no one who was happy and not weirded out. Even those friends that were cool with it, thought it was weird. For pity's sake, even my first two girlfriends thought it was weird! Some friends were friends no longer, some friends (who might have been fine with it) weren't around me because their parents wouldn't allow them anymore, as if when they hung out with me I could give them the gay bug. While I would like to think I can give the gay bug out, I sincerely doubt it.

Of course I went through the phase of wondering if any person I saw was gay. Hanging around coffee shops that were across from gay bars, that I wasn't allowed into yet, just to get a glimpse of a "gay person". Looking up gay things online whenever I was alone at the house. It seemed that instead of my friends catching the gay bug, I had. I couldn't get away from it. I wanted to see, hear, smell, think, and taste gay. That was definitely a phase and it lasted for almost 4 years, to the point where I was sick of being gay, I just wanted to be me.

That's when I came to the point where I am now. I'm gay. I'm happy to be gay. I'm happy to have gay friends and straight ones too. I'm happy that my family and I are getting close again. I'm very lucky in life, and I'm lucky that my life is no longer defined by my being gay, or even more relevant, not being straight.

Damn, It's Hard To Be A Lesbian

I think lesbians and probably gay men, although I really can't speak for them, have a really hard time finding really close, good, friends. I know I know, I'll probably get a lot of flack for saying this, but think it over for a second before getting defensive. You're a lesbian and you're choices for friends are; straight girls, gay guys, straight guys, or other lesbians. For a good night out, any of those choices can be a blast, but when it comes to the harsh reality of the world, to whom do you turn?

Let's look over these possibilities one by one and maybe you'll understand from where I'm coming:

Straight girls: The first layer to peel off are the boy crazy ones, they will never get you, period. And even worse you will never get them. Second layer are the straight girls that can't stand to hear you talk about sex, "Sorry but it just freaks me out a little", they may be really cool but when you need to talk about that weird taste or the weird thing your lover asked you to do last night, they aren't going to follow you there. Third layer and maybe the most treacherous, straight girls, who when you talk about gay stuff especially the physical side, move a little closer and raise their eyebrow in that, "I don't know what you're talking about, but I'd be willing to let you show me, especially if I'm drunk." Great, so either we can't relate to them or they want to sleep with us when drunk or alone.

Straight guys: OK, so straight guys can kind of relate to the sex side of things, I mean we're both after the same goal, it's too bad that most of them assume that we're after it with the same girl too. Seriously, what's this macho-ism thing about? Why can't we both like girls and not like the same ones? Just because you're attracted to the girl on the dance floor who's g-string is three inches above her pant line, doesn't mean I am, and it definitely doesn't mean I'm competition. If you can get past the macho-ism factor and somehow convince yourself that he doesn't want to be friends because he is hoping you'll get drunk and conveniently forget he's in the room when you start things with your latest hook-up/girlfriend, then maybe you have a chance. But personally finding a guy like that, I would wonder about his own persuasion and that brings along its own issues, see below.

Gay guys: Some of them are great to be friends with, but when it gets down to the nitty gritty, I never wanted a penis and I'm not sure I want to talk about two of them in the same room, naked, with lube and a Kleenex. As for my side of things, most of them would have a very hard time relating to a dental dam. In terms of fun factor, they are close to the top, but as far as closeness, we'll never be that close.

Now to the hardest, in my opinion, other lesbians: There are so many complications. What if you like me and I don't like you back, what if I like you and you don't like me back, what if we don't like each other but the same girl and she only likes one of us, what if I get drunk and try to make out with you and from then on you think I like you and I don't? Too many complications and yet these are the people we get closest too. We have made a group that if in the straight world would be like being friends with all the guys I know and none of the girls, and how complicated would that be? We have no one that 1) will never be attracted to us, and 2) we can talk sex with and it's all good, they understand and they can relate. It's a bitch.

So we do the best we can and we soldier on in this gay world of ours. We become resilient and blunt about honesty in friendships because there can be no confusion over who likes who, or it just gets weird. You become closest to those girls that you think are attractive but you aren't attracted to, who in return don't like you or the same type as you, and you pray that those things never change, no matter how much sangria is involved.

What comes first; the lesbian or the music?

Have you ever noticed that it seems 90% of lesbians like certain musicians that all share a common trait, not only with each other, but with the lesbians as well, that being that we're all super gay? I definitely include myself in this percentage as I love Ani Difranco, Tegan and Sara, etc. On any given day you can find me driving from work to home or vice versa blasting Tegan and Sara's The Con through my speakers and singing along with the lyrics. They are very hit or miss, you either love them or hate them. Their voices take some getting used to, but then they hit this kind of chord within you that you realize, "hey, shit, this is exactly what I am (was) going through", and from that moment you're hooked. Their lyrics and their talented way of strumming a guitar/banjo really get beneath your skin and you find yourself putting the CD on repeat. My question is, would I have liked this music if either; I were straight or if they were?

As my last post suggests I love being part of the minority of the majority, so why is it that I find myself downloading Ani DiFranco? Why do I yearn to be part of the crowd of girls shouting and singing along? Or more importantly, the gaggle of gals who want to strip various articles of clothing off and throw them towards the stage in an effort to get that one glance from Ms. DiFranco, that would surely send some of us into a fainting spell? In some ways, I see her as the lesbian Elvis, with Tegan and Sara maybe running a close second at lesbian Buddy Holly status. Yet there are instances where I find myself pulling back and thinking, "do I really like this music?", especially when I ask someone, not of our persuasion, whether they like her and that blank look goes across their face, or when I begin to tell one of the 10% about my latest DiFranco story, and they say something like, "typical lesbian music"...

So here it is in black and white, I like girls, Ani likes girls, I like Ani because she likes girls (and her arms are hot). Maybe her music was hard to listen to at first, but I pushed myself past that breaking point because I wanted to know what everyone else was going on about. Now listening to her music I hear something, unlike at the beginning when I would listen to her music and it was only because I was trying to be part of something. Now I listen because I hear something that touches me and to which I can relate to personally and as part of the group. So I fall into the 90% of us who like "typical lesbian music" so what? It just means I have more DiFranco stories to tell than some.


Sidenote: I do listen to a variety of music, including some not at all lesbian musicians, i.e. The Fratellis, but of course any female singer/songwriter/musician that my friends and I like is automatically a lesbian by our decree and any male musicians, would be if they were female. So I guess technically according to my peers and I, all music is "lesbian music".