Sunday, July 29, 2007

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.

Thursday, July 26, 2007

"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!

Friday, July 20, 2007

"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.

Monday, July 16, 2007

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.)

Tuesday, July 10, 2007

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...

Monday, July 9, 2007

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."

Tuesday, July 3, 2007

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.