Aaaah, The Heteros Are Taking Over!!!

I went out this weekend. For once, I got my shit together and I went out. Despite being tired and wanting to go to bed at about 9:30 pm I stayed the course. Sadly about half of the people at the birthday party I was attending did not follow through with our full night of dancing and drinking, but a small group of us managed to find the strengt to continue on. And I must say, I was pretty damn proud of myself when I sauntered home at 4 am, hearing the birds' chirping away in the early morning. However, I was also exhausted and slightly depressed. Why the sad face? Well, mainly because I was really really really hoping for something fun in the way of flirting/make-out session/one-night stand-wise to happen... and it didn't, at all.

But let's ignore my faulty flirting skills and how apparently unattractive I must be since no one hits on me and get to the part where I get to displace all the blame: I blame the heterosexuals. Not necessarily all of them. But definitely the ones that were at the club I attended Saturday night. Everywhere we turned, there they were. Hetero couples practically swallowing each other's tongues and grinding up against the walls. Cute girls that would peak my interest for a second before I noticed that they were nervously holding on tight to their boyfriend's hand (I swear, some of these couples will not let go of each other's hands ALL night. I mean, if you're straight and at a gay club: At least don't be so nervous that you can't give up showing off your heterosexual identity through your linking to your partner!). Blah.

Here's what I'm thinking:

1. In my city there are tons and tons of hetero clubs. There is exactly ONE weekly gay club. So goddamn it, leave my gay club alone straight people! Let it be gay and stop watering down the queerness of it.

2. With all those fag hags and other random hetero girls running around, a femmier type chick like myself has serious trouble getting recognized as gay. And duh, that's sort of the whole point of going to gay clubs: To be able to be seen for what you are and not viewed through that same old heterosexist lense that everyone in the straight world sees you through.

3. Honestly, when it's not just a few straight allies (as in genuine friends of gay people) coming along to the clubs (it's not like I'm pro a super segregated gay world/straight world) it get's to be a sort of circus-y, "come-look-at-the-freaks" kind of scene. I get the whole sense of "whoo, we're so tolerant and free-spirited, partying with the gays!", it bores me to tears.

Oh well, what the hell do I know. Maybe I'm just bitter beacuse the only attention I got was from a wrinkly woman who was leaving the club with her husband (yes, even old straight people were there) and stopped to tell me I was a beautiful girl as I was outside the club, having a smoke and telling The Ex off for passing up an awesome flirting opportunity.

Speaking of passing up opportunities! Good Guy is rumoured to have left the single club. It's just The Ex and me now, bitter as ever and both convinced that the other will leave us any day now.

(I truly do appologize about the bitterness of this entry. Sometimes straight people just piss me off. And couples. And happy people. Goddess, I hope I'm pms:ing so I have an excuse for this mood.)

One-Sided Flirting Goes Both Ways

I ventured out into the social world this past weekend as well. Not this weekend, because I've been laying at home sick with the flu, but the weekend before this one. And how did it go?

Well, the evening started with a trip to the neighboring city to attend a party where I knew no one except an old high school friend who was visiting Europe from overseas, and whom I haven't seen since graduation. It was great seeing him again and I met his girlfriend and caught up on all the important events of the last five or so years. Funny too, coming out for the second time to him since I identified as bisexual in high school and now identify as lesbian. So we compared and contrasted stories from high school and talked about all the drama I stirred up when I started dating my first girlfriend back in junior year. And as the wine poured we all got into more philosophical questions of the pros and cons of sex without emotional ties and the differences between women and men (biological or social constructions?). I think we all know where on the scale I fell in those debates...

One very interesting facet of the birthday party we attended was how fascinating it is to party with people who you'd normally never hang out with. I don't want to come off as a snob or anything, it's just that I tend to hang around the same type of people a lot. I guess most people have a comfort zone of sorts, as far as what "their group of people" is. For me, that group consists mainly of queer vegans (or at least vegetarians) with socialist leanings. So when I find myself at a party full of more capitalist friendly, meat-eating heteros (and yes, I know that I am very very much generalizing here) it's like a whole new world to me.

I had a great time mingling and there were definitely lots of pretty women there. I of course chatted fliratiously with several of them and that's when it hit me: I could be as obviously flirtatious as ever and they wouldn't perceive it as flirtation. And why? Well, because they're straight and don't think of women in that way, probably. If it had come up in conversation that I was gay, then maybe they'd have been watching more for those signals, but since it didn't in most convoes... well, it slipped right past them.

And I don't find that strange at all actually, because just a few days previously I was out an errand with a co-worker. We had our first meeting with a potential collaborative partner and he happened to be a relatively young guy. Well, it was a good meeting and walking out of there to the car my co-worker pointed out that he was flirting with me pretty hard core. To which I responded "Huh???" I was completely clueless to all the obvious flirting that had apparently taken place in that office and I think the reason why is that I simply don't think about men that way. Thus, I don't think about men thinking about me like that. If that makes any sense.

Regardless, flirting with straight girls was the only flirting I got that evening. I left the party early to head out to the women's bar in my city... but a train was cancelled and I ended up sitting at the station for an hour. And right around that time the three glasses of wine I'd had on an empty stomach all hit me at once and I didn't feel so good. So I did manage to get to the women's bar, but I ended up leaving after just making an appearance and saying hi to my friends. I'll make a new attempt soon, I promise.

One Night of Drinking, Two Days of Hung-Over

It is so unfair what the years are doing to me. It used to be I could go out and party all night and drink like a rock star, get a good nights sleep, and wake up slightly tired but all right. Now I have a night with friends, moderate drinking, and turn in pretty early only to wake up at 6:45 am, with a mouth drier than the Sahara and a pounding headache. I did manage to fall back asleep, after taking an aspirin and drinking two big glasses of water and I did manage to get up at 9:15 for an appointment I didn't want to miss... but then the rest of the day was just wasted. Whatever I tried to do it just ended up with me falling asleep. I fell asleep in the bathtub (twice), I fell asleep on the coutch watching a movie (at 7 pm) and then again while watching tv (at 9 pm). I got absolutely nothing done, so all of Saturday was pretty much a goner. Today, Sunday, hasn't been much better because I'm still not feeling 100% recovered, something that's typical for me as far as hangovers go.

Regardless, Friday evening was nice. I should probably just realize that I can't handle quite as many glasses of wines nowadays that I seldom drink, compared to back when I was still a student. But there was lots of wine. And then some beer. And lots and lots of toasts to Heath Ledger.

I was invited over for homemade vegan sushi by The Ex and her roomies (delicious!). Sitting around the dinner table in a group of queer women (well, six queer women and one straight dude who pretty much qualifies as an honorary lesbian) we started talking about places we could go out to. Sadly there were no queer bars or club nights to attend, so I had the brilliant idea of going to a hetero place, raising the rainbow flag and declaring it gay. We didn't go quite so far, but we did go out and we brought along my large rainbow flag and draped it over our table (it's terribly soiled now by various drinks). Then we sat around talking and laughing and once in a while giving the dance floor a whirl. I was of course secretly hoping some beautiful woman would happen to notice our gay table and come right over and sweep me off my feet... But that did not happen this Friday, unfortunately. Although there was plenty of LP lounging about. Next night out will be at a gayer venue, so we'll see how that goes. I'm hoping for a much lesser hangover, that's for sure.

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.

"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!

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.

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.