I end up thinking they are just something I read about online. Like Republicans. I talk about Republicans a lot online! But in real life, pretty much never see one…

Straight people must think I’m the gayest straight girl ever.

Because of course, it’s all I talk about. Well, that and Battlestar Gallatica. Well, that even gets pretty gay.

I guess straight girls don’t usually talk about fisting, dildos and pussy upon first meeting. I mean we all know they’ll talk about it at some point – after a lot to drink and if there is a hot tub involved.

So, I must come across as a really fucked up straight girl. And do they sit there thinking “should I say something? I’m pretty sure she’s gay. I wonder how her boyfriend that she talks about so much feels about it?”

It’s hard today. Everyone’s talking about gay marriage. I mean straight people are for sure talking about gay marriage way more than any queer person I know. What would straight people post on their Facebooks if it weren’t for Prop 8?

I’m the worst gayest straight girl ever.

Of course, he is the gold standard for high school boyfriends.  He had a car and drove me everywhere, he played guitar in a band, he thought I was super funny and hot, he only cheated on me once (and vice versa), and was a big ol’ bottom.  Right?  Perfect high school boyfriend for a soon to be dyke – who still doesn’t drive by the way.

Speaking of hands down…he was sharing with me the trials and tribulations of being a 30 something single straight guy dating in Los Angeles.  What a disaster!  Like, he has date shoes.  The pair of shoes he has that are nice enough but not too nice as to reveal how much money he makes.  He said the women he dates immediately want to find out.  If they don’t just come right out and ask, they’ll look for clues like his shoes or phone or job title to figure it out.

Of course, he described other problems with dating in LA and all I could think was that the problems aren’t LA but that he’s a bottom looking for a top stuck in world where people don’t talk about such things.  I had to explain that bottom doesn’t just mean getting penetrated (we’ll talk about that another time I promised) and that off-the-shelf straight gender roles and simplistic versions of masculine and feminine are failing him.  Tops and bottoms would help him start to understand what he likes in women and help him to articulate it better.  He seemed confused.  I guess they don’t talk like that in his straight LA world.

I said: “Like me and you in high school.  Me – top.  You – bottom.”

Like I said, gold standard in high school boyfriends.

Really? I need to know whether your bird has a vagina or not? I’m pretty sure the fact that it is a bird and hopping on my arm is the more overriding quality. Oh, and the wings and strange tongue and talking thing or that it lives to be 70.

Not, the vagina. I’m pretty sure it isn’t used for any other reason but to pee now. Why? Because I was going to hook your cat up on a date and need to know which hole it wants it in? Whether it is a top or bottom or butch or femme or girl or boy? I’m pretty sure whether even if it is a boy or girl — it’s overwhelmingly a cat. It likes to be fed, sleep a lot and doesn’t like anyone much.

It’s even stranger with queer people. When you are being told the sex of the animal in a room full of folks that don’t look or act or even identify as women and men, etc.

The flaming gay boy who strongly tells you his dog is a male. Really? And you? How about you? This dog has no voice or agency but you, queer boy, have forged ahead with it’s rigidly defined sex and gender roles.

I think it’s weird. I think of all the confusing parts of the changing nature of sex and gender today the least we could do is celebrate how much it doesn’t fucking matter when it comes to neutered, leashed, dependent animals we care for.

Thanks Deb for the great pictures and Nancy for having me there to celebrate your amazing 10 years of great work!  I like this pic best because it looks like I could be giving a sermon or a toast at a wedding – two things I should probably never do!

I can’t stand getting one more friend request from a random past screw who might write random messages on my Wall.  What if they get drunk and write something about my ass or my safe word or my mother?  Something for everyone to read.  Everyone I’ve ever worked with, everyone I’ve ever gone to school with, everyone who thinks I’m a nice, normal person.

Ok, maybe that last part is a more interesting group to create.