Vegans Are Sexy

Okay, I realize it might sound a bit conceited, since I myself am vegan. And I will admit there are probably quite a few exceptions. But all in all, there's just no way getting around it: Vegans are hot.

This weekend I visited a big vegan fair, which all in all had over 1500 visitors. A good portion of which were women who set off my gaydar. A small bit of it might have been wishful lesbian thinking, but most of it was definitely not. It is my experience that many queer women are vegan. Or many vegan women are queer. Not sure which is the hen and which is the egg in this case. Regardless: Vegans eat neither. And it does them good, because wow. I've rarely seen so many goodlooking women in one place.

I found myself exchaning glances with plenty of cute girls, and even engaging a few in conversation (well, it's easy when they're selling t-shirts and you're buying them...). But of course I could never conciously flirt with any of them. I only do it inadverdently and when The Ex points out that "hey, that girl was totally flirting with you" I get shy. As much as I would love to march on back to that vending table and ask the cute vegan out, I instead find myself muttering over my plate of tofu ham half an hour later "I wish I was Shane". Because let's face it: In a room full of gorgeous queer girls Shane would have definitely walked away with a pocket full of phone numbers. It think I feel a new year's resolution coming on...

The Sex Date

Finally I'm getting around to writing this entry. I've been stressed about work and now to top it all off I've got a terrible cold (again!), fever and all. But I've propped myself up at my computer to write this entry before the memories become too blurry. Not that I plan on writing out the details... Oh well, on with it already!

So Miss Sex arrived Friday afternoon and came over to my place. I showed her around my apartment (a pretty quick tour, it's not like it's very big) and we ended up on the couch, chatting about music, movies, friends, family, love, sex... you name it, we pretty much talked about it. And this felt like good talking, I must say. Not like they "Oh gawd can you please shut up so we can have sex already?"talking, but rather "Wow, you're a cool person and we're really clicking on this level". Anyway, fortunately one thing did eventually lead to another as she pulled me in for a kiss and then that was that. Good sex ensued. And that was the first night.

Saturday we spent taking bubble baths and cooking and talking some more. In the late afternoon we met up with some of her friends (and some of mine) for drinks. When we got home later that evening some really freakin fantastic sex took place. Really. Some of the best sex of my life. So when I say the first night was good sex, I really mean that: It was GOOD sex. But the second night... Wow. She was awesome, I was awesome. It was then and there that we decided that we definitely need to hook up again at some point in the future. Next time, I'll visit her and we already have plans for what we'll be doing. Hehe.

On Sunday she left pretty early to meet up with a friend before catching her train. Saying goodbye was for once in my life not traumatic at all. And that's something that I love about this whole situation: Miss Sex and I have a great connection, both friendshipwise and sexually. But it is not in any way a love connection. We want different things in some aspects (we want too much of the same in other) and we live many many miles apart. And I think knowing that what we have now is all that we are ever going to have is just so comforting to me. There's no wobbling back and forth, no "what do I feel?", "what do I want?". Just "Ah. Good stuff."

I'm left with a newly awoken appreciation for sex, a boosted sexual confidence level, and the harmonic feeling of finally getting laid.

A quick update

The sex date has come and gone but I've been too busy to blog about it (damn work and sleep, getting in the way of my blogging!) so I just wanted to drop in and let any interested parties know that it was very successful and that I'm exhausted but feeling very pleased... in more ways than one. The dry spell is officially over! Cheers!

Ex Couples Dinner

It is a quite common thing for couples to invite other couples over for dinner once in a while. Well, this weekend I had myself a little ex couples dinner. It was me and The Ex, and then my two best friends who just broke up about a year ago but had before that been together for as long as I've known them. Let's call them Chip and Dale (because that's what they sound like when they talk over each other). The Ex, Chip, Dale and myself all had a lovely evening of vegan spinach and tofu pie and board games. Everyone spent the night, and we spent the last bit of the evening before going to sleep all cuddled up on my fold out sofa bed, relaxing and talking about random things. All in all, a great evening with lots of laughs. Why don't more people have ex couples dinners? Or maybe they do and I just don't know about it? One things for sure: This will be a recurring thing for these two ex couples.

The Ex is now officially hooked on "A Shot at Love with Tila Tequila", after being recommended by me to check it out. Why would I tell her to watch such a horribly tragic show? Well, because it is the show that the word "trashtastic" was invented for. And The Ex and I both love us some trashtasticness. I mean: Yes, "A Shot at Love" is offensive at times. It promotes plenty of stereotypes about men, women, bisexuals, straight guys, lesbians... and so on. But it's also really frickin hilarious and cringe worthily exciting. The cat fights, the stupid comments, the insanely ridiculous challenges... It's all just so bad that it's good.

In "A Shot at Love with Tila Tequila" psychotic violence and crying fits are gender blind.

The Lesbionic Woman

I haven't even seen The Bionic Woman, but this is just too awesome:
Online Videos by Veoh.com

Let's Talk About Sex, Baby

Less than two weeks to go before my sex date is standing in my hallway and... well, we'll see where it goes from there. I'm excited and nervous and feeling a little bit of performace anxiety. It's been a good long while since I've had sex. And regardless of my long dry spell, I'm always nervous before the first time with a new woman. I must say, I never encountered these issues back in the day when I was sleeeping with men. It might in part have to do with the fact that I was younger then, but I believe it has a great deal to do with gender roles and sexuality. With men it wasn't all that difficult to be good in bed. I was confident, aggressive, and wild and I rarely, if ever, felt that I was lacking. With women, it's a whole different bussiness. All women are so very different in what they like, what they don't like, what pleases and what doesn't. I realize that men are different as well, but I suppose I've found that with men it's more in the details the preferences differ while with women there can be very specific and basic dos and don'ts. Why that's the case?

*DISCLAIMER: I will now go into a rant about sexuality, gender, and socializing. Be warned!*

Well, I'm of that queer school of thinking where I believe gender differences are socially constructed, and while I won't bore you to tears with a tirade on the role of sexuality in the hierarchy of societal structure, I do believe that men and women are taught to have very separate takes on sexuality.

The heterosexual paradigm rules that men and women are supposed to be complimentary, that's part of it. And I realize that's where many of my thoughts stem from. With men there's an assumtion that they always want sex and that all sex is good for them, while women will agree to put out every once in a while in exchange for love and safety. Complete bullshit, of course, and most of us know that, rationally speaking. But it's one of those socially embedded norms that lurks beneath the surface and can influence even the most enlightened feminist. I sure as hell know I've been a victim of it! Like I was saying: Back in the day when I was still sleeping with men I could spot a guy, decide I wanted to sleep with him, and proceed to make it happen. With women I shyly stand around waiting for the girl I have my eye on to make her move, not wanting to come off as aggressive or make her uncomfortable. I've discussed this with many of my bisexual friends, whom also confess to having a complete double standard when it comes to picking up men and picking up women. Has our femininst awareness that's made us so good at claiming what we want when it comes to men backfired in the sapphic cruising department? Or have the many years we've spent as victims (in various, individual ways) as women in a male dominated world taken it's toll so that we are terrified in same-sex settings of taking on the male "villain" role? Loosly formed thoughts, but it's been on my mind, what can I say...

*Rant over*

Okay, back to what I started writing about: My sex date. Basically I'm excited, but scared. I'm thrilled we both know what's going to happen and that we'll hopefully avoid the akward "who'll make the first move" dance. I've heard through the grapevine that the woman in question, let's call her Miss Sex, is very excited about coming to visit and has been talking up a storm about it (yes, we are already connected on the chart... thus gossip ensues). I'm feeling the pressure, especially what with her being quite experienced and all my sexual experience with women being confined to girl-on-girl virgins. I've always said I really wanted to have sex with an experienced woman though, and here I am, getting what I've asked for. Sweet!

Report from Celibate Land

I went away for a while. Not so much physically - I've still been lounging around my apartment, as usual - but as far as the blogging goes. I suppose making a pledge to be celibate for life makes for really boring blogging material, and so I wasn't very inspired to write. And my gawd, my life sure has been boring these past few months. I've basically worked lots and spent a whole lot of quality time with my dog. Well, that's not completely true. I've managed to fit in a few weekend excursions to visit dear friends I don't get to see very often. I've spent fun times with the friends I do get to see quite often. I spent part of these past months struggling with a bad cold that later turned into an eye infection and sinusitis, and in the process I watched a whole lot of movies and good tv-shows (yeah, not very exciting, I know).

Welcome to Celibate Land!

Regardless of how the past few months have been, I'm now inspired to write again because things are a-stirring.

First things first: I have a sex date. Yes, it's true. A woman I've only met once before will traveling down to my end of the country for a weekend of meaningless sex. And that is for sure: This will be sex and nothing else. It might be meaningful in the sense that I'll be getting laid for the first time in forever, but that's all the meaning it will hold. And I couldn't be more thrilled!

Secondly: A friend of mine just called me and wants to set me up on a blind date with a girl she claims is beautiful and on the look-out for a good woman. She pleaded me to agree to go out with this girl, something that really wasn't necessary considering how bored I've been with myself and my love life lately. But she probably did so based on our previous experiences with her matchmaking efforts (hint: they haven't worked out too good).

What can I say? I'm getting excited about my life for the first time in quite a while! And that may sound slightly tragic, like I'm this single just walking around feeling worthless... but that couldn't be further from the truth! I just happen to think that I'm quite a catch and that I shouldn't be thrown out of the "people-with-a-healthy-sex-life"-group quite yet...

Nothing much going on

Not much lesbian news in my life at the moment. I'm listening obsessively to Tegan and Sara's new album, "The Con" (so good!) and watching South of Nowhere online (also so good!) and that's pretty much it. It may have something to do with my social life being limited to work and my dog right now, due to circumstances out of my control, that all things gay are coming to me only through music and television rather than through real life experiences...

However, there's always one thing or another to tell. Such as the slight mental breakdown I had this weekend after spending an entire day with older relatives. Basically, I attended a luncheon to celebrate my grandfather's 85th birthday and almost suffocated on the celebration of heterosexuality that was going on. Everyone was so incredibly narrowminded and heteronormative and I think it reacted with my PMS in an unfortunate way because I cried my way home in the backseat of my parents' car.

Exaggerated reaction? Possibly.

I'm just so incredibly used to being open with my sexuality in all settings but with my grandfather, I've never really gotten the chance to come out. I don't see him all that often and I guess I just don't know how to tell him. So basically every time I see him or other old old relatives, there come the questions: "So, do you have a boyfriend yet?" To which I reply honestly that "No, that's not really my thing". The only problem is: They don't get it.

I was trying to explain to my parents why this is so upsetting to me. That I have never ever had issues with my sexuality (coming out was relatively painless for me, even though my mother took it horribly) but that the generational gap somehow makes it so very hard for me and that I feel made to be ashamed by those relatives that go on and on about their grandchildren that are getting married to such nice young men, blablabla. Well, my parents were so comforting and sweet about it, telling me that it's just another generation and they don't understand it.

Thing is though: I know my parents would never walk in a Pride parade, under the PFLAG banner. I know that regardless of how much they love me and are proud of me in other aspects of my life, they'll never be particularly proud of the fact that I am openly gay. And that hurts, because to me that means that they don't love ALL of me, and they're not proud of ALL of me. They speak so proudly and easily of my sister and her boyfriend, something they would never do of me and a girlfriend. I know it and they know it, even though they might not admit it.

"If I gave you my number..."

I have a confession to make: I'm in love with Tegan Quin. Yes, her sister is cute too. But Tegan... mmm, Tegan.

Yes, I realize that I'm creepy. But I saw Tegan and Sara perform on Wednesday and I was completely and totally mesmerized. The hotness! The talent! The cuteness! The funny! The tattoos! Oh goddess, the tattoos... I could dedicate a full blog entry to the beauty that is inked body art. Basically: Tegan Quin is awesome, her sister is fabulous, and together they form the awesome-fabulous-fantastic Tegan and Sara.

As the fan(atic) I am, I dragged The Ex and Good Guy along with me to sit and wait by the stage for an hour and a half before the show started. Unfortunately there were already tons of people, more fanatic than us, in the best spots, so we ended up being a little bit off to the side and in the second row pretty much. I swear 99% of the people standing in the very front were baby dykes. And they were incredibly cute and all, kissing each other and holding hands, but not so cute when they were elbowing me and having their friends push us out of the way to join them in the front. We elbow back goddamn it!

One of the cutest moments of the show must have been when Sara talked about what an attractive city Malmö is. Paraphrased:

"You are a very attractive city. Like, were we come from, in Canada, there are attractive people. But, there's like no ugly people in your city. It's sort of really unsettling, and um... we also felt really short. Because we're... [Tegan chimes in: "Short."] Yeah, we're short. And everyone here is like a hundred feet taller than us. Its... You're creepy sort of. But awesome! Totally awesome. Okay, so umm... Yeah."

And then they played a song and after that Sara appologized for calling us creepy, but of course everyone was just thrilled to be called anything by Sara so she mostly got applause all the way through. Woohoo, Sara thinks I'm hot. And Tegan agrees, she was nodding. Yup, the world revolves around me and I took it as a personal compliment.

"You give gay people a bad name"

My past few days have been spent at Malmöfestivalen, a week-long, free festival arranged by the city of Malmö. Yesterday I saw one of my new favorite singer-song writers, Asha Ali, perform her beautiful music. I highly recommend you check her out!

Tonight was a gayer, as a I saw a one-woman show called "You give gay people a bad name", by and with Helena Sandström. It was a fabulous hour long comedic monolog, with a few interruptions by her male heterosexual sidekick. I watched, I laughed, I identified. The show was all about psychotic lesbians, trying to pick up chicks, and crying yourself to sleep because you still haven't gotten laid. And there was singing and dancing as well. So basically, it summed up my life nicely. I involuntarily ended up in the show when Helena was going to demonstrate how good she is at picking up women on a member of the audience. Of course it worked (even though her pick-up technique only consisted of walking by and ignoring me), I would have totally gone home with her.

Unfortunately she had a show to finish. Before picking me out of the crowd she had just finished telling a story about boiling an ex-girlfriend's hamster and calling her every night for three weeks to prove her love. So clearly, she was playing somebody psychotic and we all know how the psychos are attracted to me. All in all, it was very "Killing me softly" moment. (You know: "Strumming my pain with his fingers, Singing my life with his words..." and so on.)

I loved the part where she explained to the straight people in the audience that there isn't one who is "the man" and one who is "the woman" in a lesbian relationship - there's one who's tall and one who's short. And that is how you divide the housework: The tall one changes the light bulbs, the short one fixes the car (since they can fit under the hood). And the garbage? You take turns, as long as both are tall enough to reach the trash can. Hah.

Think I’m gonna cry, I don’t know why…

Post-Pride depression has now hit me full force, and it’s brought its friends, Post-Vacation depression and Summer-Is-Ending depression. I’m going back to work on Monday and right now I’m not loving my job. I know that it’s only that I’ve been away from it for a couple of weeks that’s causing this feeling of impending doom since I normally love my job and feel fortunate to be working with something I feel passionately about, but… right now I just want to cry whenever I think of the misery that is 10 months until next summer. It’s getting darker, the days are shorter, I’ll be working non-stop and my personal life will be boring and more or less non-existent as it normally is.

Oh, I’m such a pessimist.

Regardless: I promised a run down of the high- and lowlights of Pride, and here they are:

The Parties: Wednesday was a slow night, we just hung out in Pride Park and had a few beers (we did watch Betty though and regardless of what you might think of the L Word theme song, they were good fun to see live, those crazy women). Thursday night was the big annual women’s party, 1500 girls on five dance floors. It was a fabulous time as always though the amount of incredibly beautiful women made all of our heads spin until we couldn’t focus on any one in particular. Friday night we went to a women’s dominated gay bar and danced ourselves sweaty. And Saturday night every one was exhausted and only two of us made it out to the queer party we’d already bought tickets for. The two of us had a great time though, dancing the night away, running into friends and acquaintances (among others The Acquaintance and “Straight” Girl) and enjoying our last night of Pride.

The Friends: Seeing old ones, making new ones, and establishing deeper connections with those you previously knew only superficially is always fantastic. And it happens a lot, and very intensely, at Pride for me. And introducing Pride to newbies is always an amazing experience, and this year we had lots of newbies along for the ride, among others The Ex.

The Speeches and Seminars: One speech in particular comes to mind for me. Tiina Rosenberg, a queer feminist icon in my eyes, rousing up the crowd in the book tent in Pride Park, reaching an almost religious feeling as she cursed the patriarchy and encouraged all dykes to be ugly, fat, and aggressive. And to continue drinking our herbal tea. She was funny and energetic and amazing. Also, the panel discussion in Pride House on morals as a social construction was interesting and set off discussions within my group of friends.

The Shopping: LGBT literature, I love it. And I can’t find it as easily accessible anywhere but in Pride Park. I must’ve bought five books and less than a week later all but one have been read. And then there’s all the cute little stuff, the magnets and post cards and t-shirts and pins that you just can’t not buy. You gotta have those Pride souvenirs I suppose, at least one or two.

The Parade: We had a theme and it was kind of sexy. I had on a pretty slutty outfit to start out. Then I got warm (and a little drunk) and decided to take off the more covering parts of the outfit. So basically I marched through all of Stockholm, proudly waving to the half a million people that were watching the parade, in high heels and underwear. Let’s leave it at that.

I won't bore you with pictures of me in my undies, but here is a wonderful fellow parader who pointed out that we were wearing the same shoes.

Making Out and Flirting: There was mucho flirting. There was mucho making out (particularly in the parade, I left a lot of smudged lipstick on a lot of girls). I must say, I was pretty forward all of Pride. Perhaps not so much with the initiating of make out sessions, but at least with starting up conversations with pretty strangers. Go me!

Not Getting Laid, Not Even A Little: Clearly a lowlight as it means I will go into absolute celibacy and never get laid again. I’m seriously giving up. Or as Pink would say: It’s just me and my hand tonight (and for every night from now on). Pessimist, me? What? I will however not be turning down pretty ladies that want to get in my pants (wherever those women are hiding), I’m just not going to be chasing after them. I am so done with the chasing.

And there it is: My Pride 2007, summed up as neatly as I could.

Pride has come and gone...

... and I am left with a gaping hole in my heart.

Okay, so maybe I'm exaggerating just a little bit. But the truth is I always enter some sort of depressive phase when I return from the colorful beauty of pride to the dreary and rainbowless hetero-world I am forced to live in the rest of the year. Sigh. At least the sun is shining and the sky is blu, or I might not leave bed for the next week.

ride was beautiful and amazing as usual. I'll have to return later, when I'm a bit more caught up on sleep, and give a full run-down off highlights and lowlights.

Until then: Happy pride to everyone! Let's try and live our everyday lives just a little bit more proudly.

I am the psycho magnet

I almost got laid yesterday. Or not so much "laid", more like almost did it standing up in a bathroom at the club. But no, the girl turned out to be psychotic, as is often the case for me.

We partied hard last night, me and the usual suspects. We had all had our share of wine and beer when we got to the club, in good spirits. The club was pretty empty when we got there and for some of the first time visitors it was a bit disconcerting. But we were there early and soon the people started pouring through the doors and the dance floor filled up. I drunk-texted my dog's sitter and invited her and her boyfriend to join us at the gay club. She responded enthusiastically and they showed up just a little while after we arrived. The Dog Sitter had no idea I was gay until yesterday, but she had been to this particular club several times before and revealed herself to be a huge faghag and her boyfriend was tearing it up on the dance floor with his boys.

So, we were all dancing and having a great time. Being slightly harassed by straight men disguised as gay men to get as close as possible to the women (it's more common than you'd think!) but all in all enjoying our selves. I met this girl, let's call her Miss A, who knows my Friend F superficially. We made eyes at each other, we danced, we flirted. We made out and it was some good kissing. I went and found Friend F and told her I hoooked up with Miss A and she told me The Ex had had her eye on her (I've since devised the motto: "the ex before sex" for The Ex and myself) but I obviously didn't know that when I made my move. She also warned me that Miss A is not completely mentally stable. But I was drunk, so it's not like that was going to stop me. Well, it might stop me from taking her home, but not from having sex with her. Hmm.

Then things got creepy. Miss A and I made out some more on the dance floor, and we ended up moving it into the restroom. We locked the door and she turned the light on. Turned it off. Turned it half on. Turned it all off. Turned it on. And so it went for a while. Then lights were off and we were making out and feeling each other up. Then psycho babble:

Miss A: (Abrubtly pulling away) "I hate that I get so aggressive, I hate it!"

Me: "Huh? I didn't think you were being aggressive."

Miss A: "But I am! I know what I'm like, and I hate it!"

Me: (Getting a little bit worried and thinking I should just get out of there) "Well, we probably shouldn't do this whole thing then." (Getting ready to open the door and leave)

Miss A: (Hand on door) "NO! Wait, I need to pee first."

Me: "Well, then you pee and I'll go outside while you do that."

Miss A: (Grabbing my arm) "So what, you're just gonna leave me here?!"

Me: "That's right." (Exit stage)

Blah. I then spent the night with her stalking me around the club, getting jealous if I talked to other girls and at one point saying in a sharp voice that I was "flirting with all the girls tonight" and asking me in a jealous tone who that girl I was talking to was (The Dog Sitter). She could not take a hint this girl.

Still, I had fun. We kept on dancing, The Dog Sitter and I sang karaoke, and all in all it was a good Pre-Pride, minus the psycho. I just hope this evening is not an indicator of what's to come at Pride because if so I'll be almost getting laid with psychos for five days.

"I'm coming out, I want the world to know, I've got to let it show"

This week has in many ways been the week from hell, job wise. I've been so bitter and tired and asked myself several times why I even bother working in social work. So thank goddess I go on vacation next week. Just one more day of work, yay!

I will, as previously mentioned, be heading up to Stockholm Pride, for the fourth year in a row, and hopefully I'll enjoy five days of interesting political seminars, plays, music performances, parties and, of course, the parade. Tomorrow The Ex and I are heading out, shopping for parade outfits. We're a group of six-seven friends with a common theme. I won't reveal what said theme is just yet, but it's gonna be good, I'm sure of it.

But that's not all I've got to look forward to. No, we've been ambitious and decided that we all need a big pre-Pride party to really get in the mood, and so this weekend we're gathering in my apartment for drunken Pride excitement and then heading out to a local gay club. Score.

Coming to said party are the usual suspects and one or two heterosexual siblings/friends who will undoubtly be terrified of all the queerness on such little square footage. AND possible the sister of the bride from the wedding I attended not too long ago might attend. I guess I haven't shared that story huh? Well, basically the Sister of the Bride (let's just call her SB, rather then SOB, for short shall we?) was quite drunk, as was I, and she got very complimenty and perhaps a little bit flirtatious in her drunkenness. Our conversation went something like this:

SB: "So, umm, you're like totally gay then? Like, completely?"

Me: "Yup, totally."

SB: "Wow, 'cause, yeah, you're really pretty. I mean, I don't want it to come off as an insult, but you don't look gay at all. I mean... umm..."

Me: "Hah, yeah, well I get that a lot. That I don't look gay I mean."

SB: "Well, my sexual preferences... well, haha, let's not even go there. So you guys are going out to a gay club after you leave the wedding I heard?"

Me: "Yeah, we're just gonna keep on partying. You should come with!"

SB: "Well, I can't really leave... But I'd love to come along some other time?"

And so I textmessaged her the other day, wondering if she wants to come along this weekend, thinking she'd most likely completely forgotten our drunken conversation. But she quickly responded with a "I'd love to, but I need to check if I can change my work schedule!". So, she might tag along, she might not. Regardless, she definitely wants to hang out sometimes, which sounds nice.

And thus: I am excited about 1) Pride, and 2) Pre-Pride. What can I say? I just frickin love Pride. Let the rainbow flag fly high!

"I just want to go out and get laid"

It's Friday afternoon, I'm home early from work and feeling the need to write a quick entry before heading off to the country side for a quiet, restful weekend with my sis and our dogs.

I saw Ex-Gaybor yesterday and I managed to work up the nerve to tell her, straight out, that I don't think we're romantically compatible. I told her I'd still like to hang out with her, but that I feel that we are better off as just friends and she took it really calmly and matter of factly. And then we switched to some other, very non-charged topic of discussion. Felt sort of silly getting so riled up and nervous about it, really. It feels like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders now though. I'm so happy and excited to be totally uncomplicatedly no-strings attached single again!

But I still really need to get laid.

Thing is, I really am a happy single gal, most of the time. Once in a while I'll start feeling really lonely but it doesn't take long to remind myself of my great friends, my dog, and my family and then I don't feel very lonely at all anymore. So my biggest issue tends to be: The lack of sex. As I've mentioned before, I have a major sex drive. Unfortunately, it very seldom gets used to it's maximum capacity. Right now it's been about six months since I last had sex. With The Ex, one drunken night. And I need to get me some sex.

Problem is, I am somehow challenged in the scoring department. I'm the queen of making out, but I can't seem to take the step to the bedroom. I blame it on my bed. It's the magic bed that makes women want to talk about their feelings. Or maybe it has something to do with me being a social worker. Regardless, every time a woman's in my bed and all i want to do it get it on, all she wants to do is talk about her feelings or about past relationships or whatever other issues she has. Case in point: Sleep Over Girl.

Right now I'm putting all my hope to Stockholm Pride. "I am not afraid, I will get laid. I am not afraid I will get laid", say it with me: "I am not afraid, I will get laid..."

Mantras are good shit.

Frienship, love, something?

Still hanging out with Ex-Gaybor. And feeling more and more, for every time we see each other, that we are just not going to be anything more than friends. I like her enough, she's a cute and sweet girl, but there is just no chemistry and we're not getting beyond the hand holding and the timid kisses. And trust me: I have a sex drive, a major sex drive. So it's very weird when I don't want to jump someone that I'm dating. But we just don't have that, I don't think about her that way.

I guess I was hoping that it would change with time, but I'm realizing that nope, this is permanent. So now I just have to break it to her. And I hate breaking something like that to someone.

But then again: I can't keep doing this, seeing her and pretending that eventually this is going to turn into something more than it is now. All it's leading to is a whole lot of anxiety from my side. I feel like I'm misleading her and that for every day that passes she's getting more and more entangled in my web. I did have a talk with her last week, in which I aired my ambivalence about my feelings towards her, so it won't be taken completely out of nowhere when I tell her I think we're better off just being friends... and that makes me feel slightly better. But still not very good.

The good thing in all this is that I'm now entering that phase in my dating cycle where I feel perfectly content being single and have understood that dating is not for me. Nope, I'm oh so happy with my drama free single life and from now on and I won't try and force a relationship, I'll just fall into it when I fall in love.

(Remind me of that when I start complaining about how boring single life is and want to get back into dating mode.)

I can't be bothered

I'm all about being out. I'm out to friends, family and I'm out at work. But sometimes it sucks. Today was one of those days.

The thing is, I can deal with people being homophobic. I face it every now and then. I've dealt with my mom who had to grow to accept me as a lesbian and several other people whom I know would rather not hear me speak openly about my sexual orientation. But those people I can respond to openly and honestly and I'm allowed to get really pissed off and tell them to go fuck themselves if that mood strikes me. It's whole different deal with clients.

I'm a social worker and today one of my clients called, asking to speak to a colleague of mine. She wasn't sure who she was talking to when I answered the phone and so she asked if I was the pretty one who liked women. I thought that was hilarious and said "yup, sure, that's me" before handing over the phone to my colleague.

So obviously, I'm out to my clients. I don't introduce myself as the lesbian social worker but I speak honestly about my life, just as honestly as my heterosexual co-workers do. And just like they talk about their husbands and boyfriends and exes, I speak about my girlfriends and exes. If someone asks me if I have a boyfriend I neutrally reply that "no, I don't, but then that's not my gender preference". I'm usually met by curiousity and/or stories about lesbian friends or romances (and once an offer to be set up on a blind date, which I kindly turned down!). Some of my clients are gay and I've never been met by negative comments.

Now this particular woman never made any negative comments when the subject came up at one of our group gatherings. Today was a different story though. She called back shortly after having hung up with my colleague and I, again, picked up the phone. She laughingly said "hello beautiful woman who likes other women!" and I laughingly replied hello. Then she started asking me why I was gay, since I was so beautiful. She said she didn't mean to be rude, but she never knew gay women could be beautiful and she was sure I could find a man if I wanted to. She even had a suggestion, "a guy my age who would make a very good boyfriend for me". I politely responded that "that's not for me and that I'm perfectly happy as is". She would not let up though. She kept saying that I shouldn't be gay and that I'm going to miss out and how I can't have babies with a woman and "have you ever been with a guy? Did it not work?", at which point I felt things were getting way to personal and said in a firm voice: "Really, I'm very happy with who I am." To which she only kept spouting more personal questions, mixed in with appologies about being so plump, and asking me about my heritage and what my parents think about me being gay. At that point I just ended the conversation, thanked her for calling and told her I'd see her for her appointment later this week.

I know this middle aged woman is just very lonely and wanted to talk to someone. I also know she probably barely knows any gay people other than myself. But what really pissed me off about the situation was how she felt the right to tell me how to live my life and how I felt so prohibited by my professional role to do what I would have done if someone else had said something similar to me: To very strictly inform that person that judgements about my sexual orientation are best left to themselves and that, frankly, I don't want to hear that shit. That's pretty much what I felt like saying today anyway...

For some reason I'm not able to put a title up for this blog entry. Oh well, let's see if that stops me! (I should mention that yesterday it did actually stop me. I kept trying to fix it but when I wasn't able to I just got pissed off and didn't feel like blogging at all...)

I spent the weekend with a friend who was visiting from overseas, and we went to a wedding, a big celebration of heterosexual loving. I had a wonderful time and the whole party was beautiful and fabulous. But there's still that naggin annoying feeling that "this is something I am not entitled to, according to a whole lot of people".

In Sweden I still can't get married. I can register a partnership, which has been the case for nearly 10 years now. That essentially means I can have the big ceremony, my wife and I would have all the same rights as a heterosexual couple... but marriage, the big M-A-R-R-I-A-G-E: That's still reserved for the union between one man and one woman.

And it's not really something I think about on a regular basis. For one, I'm not in a relationship so I'm nowhere near thinking about actually tying the knot with someone. Furthermore I was never one of those women who dreamt about a big white wedding ever since I was a little girl. Nope, never really was one of those girls. And to this day, while I do think that weddings are beautiful and am actually really moved by the ceremony and the big party of love that typically follows, I'm pretty sure that I don't want to get married. I'd love to have a big party and all of that, but the paper work and the title of wife and wife really holds no particular value for me. I suppose you could say I love weddings but am not a fan of marriage.

Still, when I'm at a wedding I get pissed in the midst of all the happiness, because even if I don't want it for myself I want to have the option. Right now, I don't even have the choice of rejecting the institution of marriage because "it" rejected me first. And we all know how it sucks to be rejected.

So I'm raising my glass to gay marriage: "May we all have the right to define our institutions as we see fit. May no one be denied the right to choose how we wish our unions to be recognized. May we all have the choice to say 'I don't need no stinkin marriage' and not be pre-empitively excluded from that holy circle that we may or may not want to be a part of."

I'm getting myself into a mess

Well, we are officially dating, Ex-Gaybor and I. And I'm already looking for exit strategies. I don't think I want this. I'm torn between giving us a real chance and running for the hills, since I'm honestly just not feeling a connection or chemistry between us. Trouble is: I think she is. Yup, I think she's really into me. Man, what a problem to have, huh? But it is a problem when the thing you're the most scared of is to break someone's heart. I can stand having my own heart broken, I'm fine with that, I've had lots of practice and it's a role I feel comfortable in. But being the heartbreaker: No, no, no. We'll see where this goes.

My dating persona

I stumbled across this on Hahn at Home and just couldn't resist taking the test. The results are in, and I am...

Your exact female opposite: The Wild Rose: Random Brutal Love Dreamer ALWAYS AVOID: Genghis Khunt (RBSM), The Wild Rose (RBLD), Half-Cocked (RBSD) CONSIDER: The Dirty Little Secret (DGSM), The Intern (DGSD) The Dirty Little Secret Deliberate Gentle Sex Master (DGSM) Innocent but fundamentally sexual, like the word "finger". You are the Dirty Little Secret. Few women have the confidence for sex mastery, and among nice girls, like you, it's almost unheard of. So congratulations. You've had plenty of adventures, but you've remained a kind, thoughtful person. Your friends appreciate your exploits. They even live vicariously through you. You seek pleasure, but you're not irresponsible. You are organized and cautious, and you choose your lovers wisely. One, you don't like dirtbags. And two, you like to maintain control. Or at least lose it selectively. You might notice that older men single you out. They have an eye for your sensual nature. Take it as a compliment. You enjoy making people happy, and it's inevitable that many girls will fall harder for you than you for them. You're not completely comfortable in a serious, long-term relationship right now. Our guess is that the key to extended happiness will be finding a responsible, but kinky, mate.

So go ahead and see if you're a match for me here. Hmm, maybe I'll make Ex-Gaybor take the test... I wonder if we'd be compatible at all. My spontaneous reaction is "no, we would not".

The long awaited kiss

Well, to call it a "kiss" is almost stretching it. It was more of a peck, on the lips.

I finally took the first step, since it was becoming blatantly obvious that Ex-Gaybor wasn't about to. And she didn't give me any great openings ever. I feel like I've been waiting for a moment to lean in and plant one on her since the first time we met up, but what do you know: That moment that I've experienced so many times before, where you look at each other and think about kissing each other before coyly looking away - it never happened. Instead I walked her to the bus stop for the third time, at the end of our third date. The rain was pouring down and I was making small talk, trying to open up for an opportunity to naturally bring up the whole "where's this going" angle. I jokingly asked if she often meets girls online. She responded that no, that pretty much never happened. I said it was nice hanging out with someone I really felt I clicked with and she agreed, but in a very casual way.

Finally, we were standing at the bus stop and I realized I didn't have many minutes to make my move. And I'd be damned if I let another date go by with no progress. And so, i asked her what was going on with us:

Me: "Umm... So, this is kind of weird. But I'll just be honest and lay it out there: We've been hanging out quite a bit and, well, I'm wondering where we're headed. Are we friends? Are we more than friends? Do we have potential to be more than friends?"

Ex-Gaybor: "I don't know... Crap, I'm really bad at this stuff. I guess, maybe a little bit more than friends?"

Me: "Okay... Well, then maybe it's alright if I say goodbye like this?"

At which point I leaned in and kissed her. The kiss was extremely timidly responded. And then the bus was arriving and we just said goodbye, said we'd call each other, and I took off on my bike.

By the time I got home I'd received a text message from her, saying she felt really akward and wished she had handled the situation better. I responded I could probably benefit from taking a class on how to make a first move, but she replied that I should give myself lots of credit for making the move because if left up to her she probably wouldn't have had the guts to do anything.

Then I called The Ex up in a fit of anxiety wondering if I really want to get into this mess. I always feel like I'm going into a mess when I'm starting something with someone... what's that about?

Long date, no kiss

So, my second date with Ex-Gaybor lasted for about 27 hours.

We started out at her place in the early afternoon of midsummer's eve, watching movies and talking and playing with my dog. We made plans with The Ex and a friend of her's (H) to have dinner together before going to the party at the Acquaintance's. I told Ex-Gaybor that The Ex was my ex, figuring I might as well get that out of the way, mentioning how stereotypical it was that one of my best friends was my ex. Ex-Gaybor got kind of quiet when I mentioned that and I asked her if she had any close friendships with her exes. She replied "no" and got even quieter, so I just dropped the subject.

We made our way home to The Ex where we all joined together to cook a delicious vegan midsummer dinner. We had a nice time and everyone was getting along, although we may have been trash-talking couples a bit too much, for me being out on a date and all... But old habits die hard I suppose. After dinner Ex-Gaybor and I walked back to my place and dropped of the pooch before meeting up again with The Ex and H by the Acquaintance's place where we entered and mingled away. I was drinking, a was most everyone else, but in moderate amounts. Ex-Gaybor was not drinking at all, due to having a persistent cold. The Acquaintance and I were flirtatious with each other as per usual I suppose, though I'm still not sure if it's flirtation or just regular friendliness, it's hard to tell with some folk.

I got a moment alone with The Ex and asked her all about what she thought of Ex-Gaybor. She was really positive, thought she was cute and nice and lovely and also mentioned that she was surprised it wasn't harder to see me with someone else.

The Ex: "I thought it would be difficult to see you with someone new, but really, it isn't. And if I were to imagine you with a new girlfriend this would be it!"

Me: "Really? I still don't know if we're hitting it off as more than friends, I'm not sure she's interested in me in that way."

The Ex: "Are you kidding? There's a whole looking back and forth electricity thing going on between the two of you. There's definitely sparkage."

So I was convinced something would happen this night. I had hope. We had already decided she would spend the night at my place and when we walked home I was convinced there was at the very least a make-out session in store for me.

Instead: Lots and lots of talking. I think I'm cursed or something. Well, I know I share the blame here, I should've just made a move. But I swear I could not for the life of me find a moment where it seemed possible for me to kiss her. And the more time that passed, the harder it became. So we just lay in bed, side by side, talking about coming out, and having gay or straight friends (more or less all my friends are queer, more or less all her friends are straight), and trying to meet someone. And it became more obvious why she clammed up on the question about exes: I don't think she has any. Seriously! On our first date we established that she hadn't had a boyfriend since 5th grade and then on our second date we established that she came out at the age of 16 and then nothing happened. She kept thinking it would happen for her eventually, but no. She started at university, still nothing.

I felt bad for her but also I was thinking about how innocent she seemed. Does this mean she's a virgin? We've already established that all women I've slept with, I've been their first woman, but first-first? At the age of 21? Shit that's a lot to live up to!

Either way, like I said, I'm not sure she's angling for that at all. In one way I think she desperately wants to meet someone, have a girlfriend, get laid. And in anothe way I think she's just really excited to have met a lesbian friend who has the whole crew of dykes and bi girls and goes to gay bars and all that cool stuff she's only seen on tv before. And I feel like we've crossed some kind of line, both in how long we've hung out without anything romantic happening and with what our conversations are about. Let's just say: I'm confused.

The morning after we woke up, had breakfast and did a whole lot of nothing for the rest of the day, until she took the bus home at 5-6 p.m. We watched movies, bad tv-shows, took the dog for a walk, talked and talked some more... and that was that.

So, a 27 hour date, with no romantic action what so ever. That's got to be a record or something... Or was it even a date? And what makes a date a date? Is there a list of criterias I should know about? Can you ever know if a date is a date until afterwards? I should go back to reading "Same Sex in the City", try and find some answers there...

Time is a requirement for dating

It's been almost a week since I last wrote. And while I would love nothing more than to tell the tales of all the progress I've made in the dating arena, I've got nothing. I've been busy, Ex-Gaybor's been busy, we just haven't managed to meet up. But tomorrow the second date is planned.

Okay, so it's not all that datey this time. I'm going over to her place to watch a movie and then we might be going to a midsummer's eve party in the evening. Said party is at The Aquaintance's place. And The Ex is coming with.

So just to make things clear: I'll be taking my date to a party held by a woman I hold some romantic interest in AND I'm taking along my ex. There is something seriously wrong with me, isn't there? Why would I set myself up for these kind of situations if there wasn't some neurological dysfunction up in my head? To spice things up just a little more, turns out Straight Girl is good friends with The Acquaintance, or so I've heard rumored. So perhaps another flirtation will add herself to the mix.

It may not become a problem what so ever though. Ex-Gaybor is sickly and might not be up for going out tomorrow evening. And The Ex isn't too keen on coming along to the party if she's going to be the third wheel. So they might sort themselves out of the mix... And The Aquaintance: Well, since I don't even know if she holds any kind of interest in me I doubt it'll be an issue. We've gone so many years without crossing the line from friendship into something else and I doubt we will anytime soon. And hell, last time I was at a party at her place I got wasted and made out with some complete stranger in her living room (that girl turned out to be totally straight though, gay as she looked - it's those damn gender study majors, they throw my gaydar off!).

Speaking of alcohol, that might be a very good solution to an akward situation. Drink until you don't care! Plus, if I get drunk enough I might get brave enough to make a move on Ex-Gaybor... The Ex is telling me I need to make a move soon, or she'll slap me next time I complain about never getting laid. But I'm a wimp and I know it and I suck at making first moves. I'll try though. Promise.

Venturing into Date Land

I braved the entrance to Date Land and lived to tell. (Go me!) I'd been talking to Ex-Gaybor quite a bit online and on Wednesday she made the suggestion that we meet up Thursday evening for a beer. Now, she had suggested a meeting the previous Sunday, but I declined - partly because I eventually had other plans but partly because, well, I chickened out. This time I decided to be brave and all that good stuff and we decided on a place and time. We live in neighboring cities and she graciously offered to come to my neck of the woods.

We met up at 9 pm, after my appointment at the vet (my dog is cured, yay!) and after her soccer practice. We recognized each other from that year of helloing each other in the stairway back when we were neighbors and greeted with a hug. Then we found our way to a decent place with out doors seating, beer and food. And it was great! We talked talked talked. And don't think there was a quiet moment, or at least no akward silences, from the time we met up to the time we parted, at the bus stop four hours later. We talked about our lives, our back grounds, movies/books/music, coming out... nothing heavy really, just light conversation and lots of laughing. After finishing our beers and getting a little bit cold, since the weather decided to change from super hot summer to cold fall or spring in a span of two days, we decided to walk back to my place where the great conversation continued. She met my dog and they got along brilliantly (check), she has a sense of humor (check), she seems to be on somewhat the same political spectrum as I am (check), she showed no signs of mental illness (check, with a reservation as those things tend to reveal themselves with time), and she's very cute (check).

What else could a girl ask for?

Well, there was no kissing, no hand holding, no romantic action what so ever. So that seed of doubt was planted: Was it even a date? Or were we just two people meeting up as friends? Still, I've decided to think of it as a date. And as a damn good first date in fact! We definitely clicked, but if it's as friends or as more than that will have to develop naturally, I suppose. All I can say is that there's definitely an attraction from my side.

Since the "date" we've been texting each other on a daily basis and she's written that she enjoyed spending time with me and that it's great to meet someone you can be so comfortable with from the get go, AND a somewhat random message about feeling blessed to be a lesbian so she won't have to spend her life with an obnoxious man, despite knowing that there are plenty of great guys out there and plenty of dysfunctional lesbian relationships. And I've spent the last few days analysing every word with friends and pondering how to make a move. I just suck at making the first move and first kisses tend to come painfully slow for me (unless I'm drunk, then I'm a total kissing slut). But next time we're planning to meet up to watch a movie so maybe, just maybe, I'll push past those inhibitions and go for it. Or just go for The Ex's suggestion and drink heavily before the movie watching.

Lesbian singles: A tragedy?

I went to see a play by an amateur lesbian theater group yesterday. The play was entitled "Take what you can get" (freely translated from Swedish to English) and it was about a single lesbian who has nightmares about dying alone and ventures out into the world of dating in order to find a girlfriend and thus being entitled to an inheritance by a recently dead relative. It was a funny play, for the most time, with plenty of situations that I could relate to. The psychotic women, the bicurious women, the already-in-a-relationship-(with a man)-women. I've known them all. So that was kind of discouraging in itself I suppose, being in a trying-to-date-phase, as I am. But the real tragedy here is how the play ended: With the poor single lesbian marrying a stuffed animal in order to be awarded the million dollar inheritance, since apparently the dead great-aunt hadn't specified that the future spouse had to be alive or anything. (Don't ask, I didn't get it.)

I mean really? Couldn't she have met someone? A nice, sane enough woman whom she could live happily ever after with? Or at least happily for a few months with? Couldn't the playwrites have given me at least that? Some hope that there are sane lesbians left in this world?

Sigh.

On the upside: One of the actors in the play was oh so cute. And I happen to know from the interviews the theater troup did regarding this play that this particular woman is the only single, active dater in the group at the moment. Now if I could only figure out a way to get in touch with her and ask her out...

In other news: I still haven't met up with The Aquaintance for coffee. What's up with that? Yeah, I know, I better get on that.

I discovered that my former neighbor that always set off my gaydar is in fact a flaming lesbo (she sent me a message on a gay community site) and she wants to meet up! I shall call her Ex-Gaybor.

Other than that, I'm just enjoying the warm weather, still hoping my dog gets better (vet follow-up this week) and experiencing some serious eye-wandering what with all the tank top wearing, tattooed, smoking hot women that are out and about in the sunshine.

Oh, the hotness

I think it's time for some objectifying. Yup, AfterEllen inspired me with their Hot 100 List. I suggest you check it out if you're looking for some women to objectify.

**Sidenote: Really, I'm 100% feminst, I swear. But I plead guilty on all counts of objectifying women. It's weird, my female friends and I are all the same. And we know, and we make it very clear to our male friends, that guys could never ever get away with saying the things we do without being called on it. But that's the way it is I guess... I'll keep fighting for a more equal society. And objectify in secret. Or in the open. Whatever.**

Here are some examples of hotness, some of which I didn't even think of when I was voting for the list:

Coming in at number 2: Angelina Jolie

No big surprise there... We all know lesbian and bi chicks dig her. And I am no exception. Go Angie go.

Coming in at number 4: Lena Headey

I didn't really get the big fuzz about her when I finally got around to seeing "Imagine Me and You"... but then I saw this picture. And now I totally get it. And her tattoo rocks. My goddess I love me some tattooed lady.

Number 10 on the list: Natalie Portman

Yes, I love her. She looks crazy intense in this specific picture though... just a little bit scary. But I love her head bald. Made me wanna shave all my hair off.

Coming in at number 30: Carly Pope

I remember really liking her in "Popular". And seeing pictures of her from "Dirt", a show I have yet to see, and thinking "she's pretty hot". But I would have never thought of her for this list, to be honest. And then there she was... and wow.

Go check out the other pretty ladies at AfterEllen.com! Lots of cast members from "The L Word", "Grey's Anatomy", "Buffy the Vampire Slayer", and plenty more!

Hangovers and Buffy

Yesterday was my housewarming party. I'd invited quite a few ladies of interest to said housewarming party, but none of them could make it in the end, so it was just me and friends. Which was fine, we had a lovely time. But not much sexiness. And people were definitely in more of a "getting-drunk-and-sitting-around-talking-and-lounging" mode than in a "let's-go-out-dancing" mode, so there wasn't any going out to find potential romances either. At the end of the night there was one male friend crashed out on my couch, another male friend (let's call him Good Guy) and I dancing samba in my living room withThe Ex watching us in amusement. I also have vague memories of flashings of boobs taking place and weird internet chats. In the end the drunken crashed out guy picked up his things and left and the rest of us went to bed. Well, The Ex and I went to bed (in a completely platonic way, I assure you) while Good Guy slept on the couch.

Good Guy, The Ex and myself have a club of sorts. It's a club for bitter singles (not necessarily bitter about being single, but bitter about something none the less) and my apartment is our headquarters. We gather, watch Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and trash talk the couples in our surroundings or just coupledom in general. There's plenty of snark, lots of bitterness and also lots of laughter. So today when we woke up completely hungover (some more than others... ahem) we had breakfast in front of the tv and started to watch random episodes of Buffy. And we did this from about 10:30 am to 8:00 pm with only a brief pause to go out and buy pizza. This may seem unhealthy, but Buffy is so fabulous to watch we didn't feel we wasted a minute of this gloriously beautiful Sunday. We were too hungover to do much of anything anyway, so sitting on our asses alla day was quite ideal.

So what is so brilliant about Buffy then? Well, I could go on and on about this, but I'll save that for some other day. But just to mention some of the things that makes the Buffyverse so fabulous: Snarky dialog, an episode for every mood/situation, and can we just mention the goodness that is Willow and Tara? Oh, it's a beautiful work of art. And it's just the right amount of fluffiness for my brain to process on a hungover Sunday.

Internet love

I recently got back in touch with a woman with whom I used to have an eerie sort of connection. We've never met, but we've been in contact with each other online for years, and a few years back we somehow fell in love with one another. We would send each other letters, packages, and call each other to revel in hearing the other one's voice. It was sweet and while we were realistic and knew that we would probably never get around to meeting (living on different parts of the globe and all) we cherished the connection we had and called it on what it was: We were in love, as strange as it might seem.

Then we drifted apart, as these things go. We felt the need to move on with our lives, and I know I struggled with the feeling that I was using my Internet Love as an excuse to hide from finding love in my real, non-cyber world. We've still been in touch, from time to time. An email here, a quick phone call there. A while back we started emailing back and forth for a bit. Internet Love was going through a rough phase and I could identify with a lot of what she was writing. I told her to call me if things got rough and she needed to talk, which she did the very next evening! Turns out she's planning a trip to come and see me and figured she'd throw out the idea there for me to say yay or nay. It was, of course, a big ol' YAY on my part. So hopefully she'll make it here this summer and we'll get a couple of quality days together. She made it clear there were no expectations what so ever on her part, other than having a nice, chill time. I'm definitely not expecting anything to happen, but it will be very interesting to see if that spark we've experienced over the phone and the internet will translate in a face to face meeting...

In other news: My dog is sick and I'm worried sick about her. I'm not so stressed about work anymore: In fact, I'm rather enjoying it. And I've been watching Twin Peaks today and sometimes I really think the only thing that separates me from the Log Lady is a couple of years of sexless existense and a minor nervous breakdown.

"Come then! My log does not judge!"

From thought to action

It's a long way from thinking that you're going to venture into the world of dating and actually going on dates. I've been doing my part though which has involved a lot of internetting. I'm chatting to a lovely fellow dog owner on a LGBT community-site and The Acquaintence and I are working hard on finding a moment when we can meet up for coffee. So far it's all about sitting in front of the computer though, none of that actual IRL stuff. Also I've been out of town for a few days, with work and now I'm exhausted, so maybe sitting in front of the computer is about as much as I can handle at the moment.

At the conference I was attending there was a girl I recognized from a previous conference and we got to chatting. Mid-talk she asked me how old I was, quickly explaining that that's not something she normally asks. It's just that at the big conference we attended in April she was surrounded by a bunch of male colleagues in the 20-30 age bracket. These young guys had apparently referred to me as "the finest girl at the conference" (yup, that's a quote) and fought about who should "get me", as in "she's mine", "no, she's mine!". Flattering, of course, but I couldn't help but laugh and mention the irony of the whole situation. My colleague was of course laughing her ass off as I told this girl that the ironic thing is that I'm a big lesbo, so they could fight all they wanted but they had nothing to collect with me. First her jaw dropped and then she lit up in a smile and did a little victory gesture, making it known that she couldn't wait to tell her colleagues that the chick they were checking out was a dyke and that she had a bigger chance of scoring with me than they did.

There was no scoring what so ever at the conference though. Sadly.

Sleepless nights and all that good stuff...

I'm stressed out. About work. About life. I forget what came first in the vicious stress cycle, but one invariably affects the other. Yesterday I couldn't fall asleep for some reason and all I can say is I am sooo ready for vacation time to roll around. Soon soon...

In other, lesbian news: The Ex and I talked and walked today. The talk revolved around our issues, with sex and love and relationships, as is often the case with our talks. She tried to convince me that I will find someone very special and have an amazing relationship and that it's only a matter of time before that happens (of course! Natalie must be on her way!). I pouted and hissed in disbelief, and then it was my turn to convince the Ex that she'll definitely find someone way before I do. And then we play-fought about who's more fucked up. Oh the fun.

I am slowly recovering from my pathetic attempted one-night stand two weeks ago. Yup, I'm crawling up from that dusty pit I've been in, brushing myself off and venturing out into the world. All this stress and sexual frustration must be channelled into some purpose and I figure it might as well be dating, so here I go, I'm making an effort. In two weeks I'm having a party and I'll be damned if I won't gather at least a few women with potential... Maybe my guy friend will bring along Straight Girl, if I ask him? And then there's The Acquaintance, that girl I've been in contact with, in one way or another, for several years. I've always been interested in her, but I've never managed to develop it beyond acquaintanceship due to circumstances and bad timing.

Finally: Yay, people are reading my blog! Thank you to those two of you that have left comments so far!

Happy IDAHO... or not so happy?

Today is IDAHO (International Day Against Homophobia), a time to stop and think about all the homophobia that exists in our society and how it effects every single one of us, gay or straight, in our daily lives. I went to a manifestation this evening and there were quite a few of us out there, supporting the cause. Some shit went down as well... Let's just say that it was made very clear that homophobia is an ever-present factor in our society and it manifested itself in some ugly events tonight. Everyone's okay though. I just hope that the day will come when a day against homophobia is no longer necessary. And until then I hope we all make an effort to make every day a day against homophobia. It does warm your heart, being surrounded by friends of varying gender and sexual orientation, all standing together in the fight to love and live freely.

On a lighter note, every time I hear "IDAHO" all I can think of is this shirt:

Also, it was fascinating seeing all the dykes from the women's club I frequent sober and in day light. A new experience, to say the least. Inner Journey Girl was there, and we hugged and exchanged pleasentries as is customary. The Ex was out of town and couldn't be there, but I did get a semi-strange textmessage from her, exclaiming how much she cares for me. I'm thinking she was drunk. Regardless, it's nice to hear how loved I am.

Every time I blink I have a tiny dream

I've been in a shitty mood this past week. Work's been exhausting, physically and emotionally. My private life can best be described as "blah". And my mind has been running around all over the place. I talked to some friends but soon decided that I wasn't meant to be social right now, since everything I said came out sounding pessimistic and bitter. Sunday night I actually had a little mini-break down, realizing that I was feeling desperately lonely for the first time in ages. I've been single for a long time and that's all good, goddess knows I love my me time. But suddenly I wasn't just feeling alone but rather extremely lonely. Well, I cried a little, wrote a long email to a dear friend in which I poured my heart out, and ate lots of chocolate (not necessarily in that order).

I feel better now, but the aftermath of the mini-break down still haunt me and I'm working to find new ways to deal with my thoughts of a bleak future in which I die alone and no one comes to my funeral. Somehow Natalie Portman worked herself into these thoughts/day dreams and now I've decided that it's only a matter of time before I run into Miss Portman in some spontaneous and hilarious manner, we exchange phone numbers and go out for coffee and a stroll in the park and live happily ever after.

What?! It could happen.

See? She even likes dogs! A must in my world.

Anyway: The lesson learned here is that Natalie Portman is the cure for loneliness. I feel fine now, imagining that my aloneness will be ended soon by Nat. Or maybe I actually feel a little commitmentphobia coming on... Either way, it gets my mind off of my lonely tomb stone in the rain (because it's definitely raining in my bleak lonely future).

The lesbians are everywhere!

Lately, everywhere I look there's lesbians. Granted, at times I rely solely on my gaydar to identify these queer women, but still. It seems spring has brought us lovely warm weather and lesbians in droves. It might be that I've recently moved into a particularly lesbian-populated neighborhood. I didn't know this was lesbo-ville at the time, but I'm not complaining that I meet several dykes every time I take my dog for a walk. It's quite nice actually.

I will admit that my gaydar is slightly over-sensitive. I believe it reacts not only to self-identified bi/lesbian/queer women but also to women who have secret fantasies about women or at some time had a crush on Angelina Jolie. Also, gender study majors totally throw my gaydar off. Good thing The Ex sees the same things I see, so at least I'm not hallucinating completley. Walking back to my place after a long walk around town she too started noticing how LPs (Lesbian Potentials) kept popping up everywhere. And the closer we got to my place the more there were.

I googled "potential lesbian" and this is what I found:

Who knew LP = a young Julie Andrews?

But then if you look at the picture... it kind of makes sense.

Need more proof that I live within some kind of lesbian magnetic forcefield? Remember how I went out this past weekend? For once I mingled lots and met a bunch of new people. Then on Monday I met one of the women from the club at the local grocery store, shopping with her girlfriend, and then another of the women from the club was working behind the counter at the local post office.

Uhuh.

The morning after...

I woke up next to someone I barely knew. Which isn't associated with any shame on my part, not at all. In fact, I would've shook my own hand, done the wave and shouted "YAY ME!"... if it weren't for coming to the realization that my accomplishment of picking up a girl and bringing her home with me didn't lead to ending my sexual dryspell. But let's start at the beginning. First things first: I suck at picking up girls. It's a well known fact that I simply cannot for the life of me get a girl to go home with me. My friends claim I don't even try. I claim that I have tried at times and taken blows to my self esteem in the process. Either way, yesterday a girl picked me up and I was feeling all special and stuff. Things were going so smoothly: She was showering me with compliments and I was ignoring all signs that she was crazy. And yes, there were signs to be ignored. She was literally telling me how she and her girlfriend had just separated and how she was going to therapy and was a really fucked up person... and I responded by asking her to come home with me. She accepted and I did a little dance of joy in my head. Walking home it became clear that she was more than a little drunk. I wasn't stone cold sober myself and when we got back to my place we tumbled into bed and I told her I always sleep naked and took all my clothes of. Once in bed we started making out and all was wonderful until she all of a sudden stopped and said: "I'm not going to have sex with you tonight". "Um, okay...", I tentatively responded. She then started talking about how she just got out of a relationship and how messed up she is right now and maybe we could just sleep together without, ya know, sleeping together. I told her that was absolutely okay, like the gentlewoman I am. But I was a little disappointed, to be honest. I thought I was gonna have my first sapphic one-night stand... but no.

So this morning was akward, waking up naked next to a more or less fully clothed stranger and scrambling to put on clothes so as to not parade around naked in broad daylight more than necessary. Sleep Over Girl apologized profoundly for being so drunk and out of it the night before, we had coffee in my kitchen and realized we had very little in common (at least I did) and then I called her a cab, gave her my number and we parted with a hug. I doubt she'll call me and to tell the truth I'm kind of hoping she won't. Some things are just over before they begin and I've got a feeling this is one of those things, better left alone.

Expectations for a girls' night out

Tonight is girls' night at a local club and of course I have to be there. After all, I'm in dating mode at the moment and you never know who you're going to meet. Expectations, that's what it's all about. The trouble with expectations is that they come with potential disappointment attached. And man have I been disappointed after some of my girls' night experiences... I've had a lot of good times too at the club, that's for sure. And it seems some of my best memories are the ones from when I went out with friends, just for good fun and dancing and drinks and nothing else. It may be that the expectations for those nights have been edited in retrospect though, from "I hope I meet someone interesting" to " I hope I have a fun night with my friends". Regardless, there is some criteria that pretty much has to be fulfilled for a night to qualify as fun without romance/sex/dating potential/whatever:

• A large group of friends. It's not that we're incapable of having fun when it's just a small group of two or three, but the core group know each other so very well, we tend to end sticking to each other, whether it's on the dance floor or at the bar. When we're a large group there's more mingle possibilites, getting to know new people and such... And more drama!
• Speaking of which: Drama. There must be some form of it. Whether it's an unexpected (or expected for that matter) make-out session, a fight between girlfriends, exes, or just friends, a drunken confession of love... anything that makes for good gossip the day after.
• Someone must get very drunk. I don't know why that's a criteria, but it seems to be a common denominator for those great fun nights. Someone get's very drunk and makes a fool of themselves/create drama (see above). It's not always so much fun being that person, but hey, we've all been there.

The problem tonight is that there probably will be a large group going out, but they're not people I really want to be around... so that brings down the level of fun quite a bit. I tried to get The Ex to come along, but she had other plans and thus couldn't serve as my wing-woman tonight.

Still, I'm going to go out and I'm going to give high expectations another shot. Maybe I'll meet miss Right? Maybe I'll meet miss Right Now? Or maybe I'll just have a wonderful time making new friends and reconnecting with old ones? I'll deal with the potential disappointment tomorrow. Or the potential happiness. I'm hoping for the latter.