Thursday, July 26, 2007

Enough already!

I think it's time for CNN and YouTube to stop sucking each others dicks already. CNN is especially way too pleased with itself and their joint venture hosting the Democratic debates with YouTube.

Wait? There was a question from a snowman regarding climate change? That's just wacky! I totally take back what I just wrote.

Friday, July 13, 2007

The Spam in my email inbox this morning

"Going to have sex with two ladies at the same time? You need a strong erection, or they will have to satisfy each other. You really need Viagra!"

There are just so many things wrong with this. First of all, the author is wrongfully asserting that "two ladies" sexually satisifying each other is somehow lesser than if a man did it. Compare the number of married woman who have never or rarely have orgasms with their husbands to the numbers of women in long-term relationships with other women who have the same problem and get back to me, ok?

Second of all, That statement assumes that a nice stiff one is the only route to sexual gratification, which it isn't. However, if a stiff one is what you're after, viagra is not necessary.

I'll refer you to Bitch and Animal's song "Best Cock on the Block" from their album, Eternally Hard.

If you still don't get it, try the spoken word piece "Cute for a girl" by Alix Olson.


Tuesday, July 10, 2007

Open Letter to Those that Irked Me: Part two

To my girlfriend's supposed friends,

There where warning signs right off the bat. When P-funk announced the locale for her birthday dinner (after the dyke-licious birthday plans of stock car races were rained out), every single one of you made some protest upon hearing the dreaded location of, gasp, NE Minneapolis. I know that you rarely leave Minnetonka, Eagen, Edina, (insert gentrified Twin Cities suburb here) and when you do, it is to go to places like the effing Hard Rock Cafe and Valentinos, two locations P-funk and I suffered through for some of y'alls birthdays in the past year. But suck it up, her b-day is only once a year. When you chose a straight nightclub with a dress code for your birthday party, we didn't complain to you about it (
I complained on cyberspace, but that is a different story). And when you didn't look up directions to a place you'd never been to before and got lost, not only did you not apologize for being late (which you never do), you complained about the location to the Birthday girl, again.

Then, in quick succession, you behaved in ways that pretty much secure you on my shit list:
1) You treated the waitress like she wasn't human
2) You made fun of other people in the bar because they have the courage and creativity, unlike you, to dress outside the norm. ("Apparently it's 'Wear your underwear on the outside of your clothes' Day. I guess I didn't get the memo.")
3) You talked about how awesome the Transformers movie was.

But the worst offense of all: the birthday presents. I'm completely baffled by the gifts you got my girlfriend. You seem to be suffering from the "I'll just get her something that I would like because she'll probably like it too" syndrome. The problem with that approach is you are a spoiled femmy brat that apparently hasn't looked your friend in the face since you all when to Edina High School together. At least I hope that is what your problem is, because it is better than the alternative which is "we are in complete denial about the fact that our friend is a big old lesbian" syndrome, or, even worse, "we know she is a big old dyke, but we think that doesn't mean she can't be frilly" syndrome. How else can you explain the fact that she received FOUR tubes of glittery tinted lip gloss from two different "friends"? This is in addition to the Winnie the Pooh stickers, body splash, shampoo and aromatherapy thingy she received.

[Side note. This is what happens when a lesbian receives a Pier One aromatherapy thingy (technical name: Zanzibar Clove Reed Diffuser):

Lesbian: Is it a candle?

Femmy brat: No

Lesbian: But do you light it?

Femmy brat: No

Femmy brat's boyfriend attempting to speak lesbionic: You put the bamboo sticks into the aromatherapy oil. The bamboo soaks up the oil and wicks the scent into the air.

Lesbian: Ok, I get it. So you just use one stick at a time?

Femmy brat and brat's boyfriend: No, you use them all at once.

Lesbian: Oh.]

The best gift was the one I thought was tacky at first: $10 cash in a card. When P-funk opened that one first, I thought to myself, "Jesus, it's not like you're her Aunt Doris! Cash in a card? At least put the cash towards an iTunes gift card." But in the end, I figured at least you recognized you had no idea what to get her and didn't resort to some nauseating flower-scented crap she'd never get for herself. She could at least use the cash for something she wants or needs. Like, say, a drink a gay bar with friends after a disastrous dinner with high school friends. Which is exactly what we did!


Sincerely,

Smitty (who recognizes the hypocrisy of my judgemental and holier than thou tone while criticizing someone for being judgemental and holier than thou. But I'm being judgemental of them being judgemental, whereas they were judging someone based on wardrobe. So I totally win).

It's a Magical Month for Muggles!

I have tickets for Harry Potter Movie #5 at the IMAX this week, Harry and the Potters play Minneapolis on Monday and I have Book #7 on reserve for next week. Holla!


Monday, July 09, 2007

An open letter to the people who irked me this weekend

To the gay man who tried to lift my shirt at Innuendo,

You know, even though I despise and disagree with it, when straight men are sexist and degrade women, I can understand the motive behind it. Only to the degree that I know it is advantageous for them to do it. Demeaning women secures men's place as top dog not only in society overall, but within their interpersonal relationships with family, friends, coworkers and lovers.

Despite experiencing discrimination for being homosexual, gay men are not about to relinquish their male privilege (or white privilege when it applies) even though it allows them to discriminate against women (and minorities). Gay men are still firmly entrenched in patriarchy; sexism still works to their advantage overall in society. Anyone that questions that assertion need only to visit San Fransisco and compare the Castro neighborhood to the Mission District and see the discrepancies in money and corresponding visibility of the gay and lesbian populations there. Or visit the Log Cabin Republication booth at Pride and see who comprises the gay republication population (hint: they look a lot like Dick Cheney, with his lesbo daughter). A gay republican? Isn't that like a unicorn? A fantasy devised by the Religious Right? Alas, no. But I digress. The irony is that homophobia and sexism are cut from the same patriarchal cloth. Without patriarchally defined gender roles, neither homophobia or sexism can exist in their current forms. Unfortunately, that doesn't stop gay men from being sexist.

Despite knowing all this, you, Mr. Shirt Lifter Upper, caught me off guard Saturday. Here's the scene: A double date with P-funk and friends S1 and S2. S2 and I hit the dancefloor, leaving our comparatively butch girlfriends chatting and having drinks in the lofted seating area that overlooks the bar and dancefloor. S2 and I were soon joined by you, a big bear of a gay man, who seemed delighted to have some lesbians join in the dancing fun. We engaged in some campy disco dancing that would put the Village People to shame; it was all good. Until, that is, S2 left the dancefloor to have a smoke outside. Keep in mind that the dancefloor is in the front of the bar, with floor to ceiling windows on two sides, so that anyone on the street can look in.

[Side note - anyone ever noticed how unusual it is for a gay bar, especially in the midwest, to have a well-lit dancefloor that can be seen by the public? How are all the closeted homos supposed to imbibe and dance if the windows aren't blacked out, non-existent, or the dancefloor located in the back?Well, for all of you shamed gays in St. Paul, you'll be happy to know that this set-up at Innuendo is a temporary one. Once "Rumors" opens up in the back, (Rumors & Innuendo, get it?) the dancefloor will be moved back there where you can get your groove on discretely.]

So I'm dancing by myself and sort of doing a silly dance for S2 through the window when you come up from behind and grab the bottom of my Tee-shirt from both sides and lift it, getting it above my belly button, but not as far as my bra, before I grab his hands and yank down, HARD. You continued to try to lift my shirt even after I started pushing down. At this point, P-funk and S1, who had watched this whole scene unfold, came barrelling down the stairs and quickly surrounded me on the dance floor. When I sought solace in P-funk's arms, you made a confused face and backed off. You even tried to apologize from across the dance floor later.

The interesting part was that you weren't apologizing for trying to blindly and forcefully disrobe me without consent, but that you had mistaken S2 as my girlfriend. So you were apologizing for trying to take my shirt off for the wrong girl (and anyone walking down the 200 block of East 4th in St. Paul), not for treating me as less than a human being. As a gay man you can accept that I'm with someone of the same sex, but can't get it through your thick skull that I'm not the play-thing of you and whomever I'm dating. Women are still property and you'd mistaken whom I "belong" to.

And while I pride myself on being an independent woman who didn't need P-funk and S1 to come to my rescue, it was sort of fun watching you flee at the sight of these two butch dykes thundering towards your sorry ass.

I have another open letter to some other people that irked me this weekend, so stay tuned!

Sunday, July 08, 2007

It's fine, thanks for asking.

My big straight sister called me last week to announce she'd had "A VERY lesbian day today." She was phoning from an Indigo Girls concert, so that explained the evening portion of her Lesbian Day.

Earlier, as part of her job marketing her physical therapy clinic, she had worked at a charity golf event.

"It was a girls charity and it was basically these 2 rich lesbians hosting the event and all their rich lesbian friends playing in the tourniment."

Sounds about right.

One of my sister's tasks was to check in the players. They were teeing off at different holes to stagger the players and avoid bunching up on the course. The hole number was pre-printed on the players' nametags.

At one point, my sister leaned in to read the nametag on one woman's chest and said, "Sorry, I'm just checking your hole."

Everyone cracked up.

For the rest of the day, my sister had lesbian golfers coming up to her and saying, "How's your hole? I'm just checking your hole."

Saturday, July 07, 2007

Sick and Tired

When I first got my current job at a Catholic university, my then girlfriend, a Catholic herself, got me a copy of the book "Catholicism for Dummies." Someday, when I'm no longer employed there, I'm going to write a blog entitled "Dummies for Catholicism." I went into this job with my eyes open. I expected some clash between my personal views and those of the institution. Shit, when I turned on the local news the night after my very first day on the job, I saw a representative of the University speaking at an anti-gay marriage rally on the Capitol steps. But after working there for over a year as an out lesbian, and experiencing no friction from my immediate co-workers and boss, I guess I let my guard down and got a bit comfortable. Well, that comfort has been discarded and the guard is back up. An event that is supposed to be a "team-building" conference and a "reward" for a year's hard work had the opposite effect on me. I've never felt less like I want to be a part of this team after witnessing the racism, ablism, homophobia and sexism displayed by my co-workers at this retreat. Far from a rewarding experience, I felt like I was being punished for something.