Sunday, February 25, 2007

"Lux et veritas."

The person who slept in my bed last night was named Emma. A veritable stranger, she had long since passed out while Lesbian Club members drank beer and played cards till 4 am. Before coming over earlier in the evening, she did a couple of shots for courage and then took a car from South Slope to my place in Lefferts. Her nervousness of not knowing anyone at the party except for me mixed well with the alcohol and soon the decibel of her voice matched the glasses of wine consumed. We encouraged her into bed around 1 am, which seemed easier than getting her into a taxi. Later when everyone was packing to leave and some were opting to crash, Emma seemed drunkenly content with occupying a space in my bed. So being the charitable persona that I am, I crawled into the opposite side, said goodnight to those on the couch and floor, and turned out the lights.

I had met Emma once before at a lesbian bar where she came up to me and knew my name having recognized me from my photo on the Lesbian Club website. She was a long time list member, but had never been to any of the meetings. Being recognized was a strange experience, almost as strange as waking up next to her this morning. She apologized for being so ridiculously drunk and after the people on the couch and floor managed to leave, she stayed behind to have some water and get her bearings.

Funnily enough we talked about crazy lesbians. Since my recent push has been for Single And Sane, I opened up to her about Lawyer Girl, Former Mormon, the red wine incident, and all my past dating travesties. Poor Emma became by confessor and before I knew it I had embarrassingly spent an hour rehashing ALL my relationships. I don't know why I felt compelled to go into lengthy detail, but I did until all the stories seemed to run together, the girlfriends began to sound the same, and Emma had a look in her face that was a mix of fear and bewilderment.

"It's like you OD'd on crazy," she interrupted, "and it's in your head so much that it had to come pouring out."

Realizing that I had spent a good amount of time talking about my dating history, I felt mortified. Maybe I felt that I could open up since we, by way of having shared a bed, we were no longer strangers. And then I realized that in my diatribe on gay insanity I had become one of the crazies.

"You obsess way too much. You're still trying to figure out why Red Wine Girl left the party. It's too negative. You need to let go, man."

Just a little, perhaps. Clearly I must have sounded like crazy dating obsessed woman who Must Be Stopped At Any Cost. I held my head in my hands.

"You know what they say about the harder you look for something the more it is out of reach?"

"Yeah definitely," I said feeling strangely unburdened.

Maybe by confessing everything I can make a real change, I can stop attracting the type of person who thinks it's okay to use a red wine spill as an excuse to flee, and I can be okay with just being single knowing that the less I look for something the more it likely to come to me.

So there you go. Happy Sunday, enjoy the Oscars, and maybe I won't need to join a convent after all. Oh and I lost my glasses on Friday, the very ones that were a replacement for the expensive ones broken last July. It sucks, but then again maybe I can see some things now that I couldn't see with them.

Wednesday, February 21, 2007

"I feel sad."

For those eagerly refreshing your browser waiting for an update on the Cute Girl situation, I'll put you all out of your misery. I haven't heard anything. No response. Nada. I guess this means I shouldn't expect to get one at all. Unfortunately this lack of response doesn't put me out of my own misery. The bottle of red wine I bought from Trader Joe's and reruns of Buffy the Vampire Slayer helped.

I'm joining a convent. Seriously. Or maybe I'll go straight. I still have the number of the dude who followed me into a store on 34th Street last week, told me I was beautiful, wanted to be my "friend," and proffered me with a small box of Russell Stover chocolates with the declaration that I was his valentine. Never mind that I told him I was gay and, well, that should have been the end of it. The chocolates are still sitting on my desk unopened as I'm too afraid they are laced with cyanide to eat them myself or offer them to coworkers and I feel too guilty about throwing them away.

Speaking of God and guilt, I have decided to give up meat for Lent. I figured it was one step closer to getting my soul ready for the convent because I have ten years worth of lady action and gin abuse to atone for. The last time I gave up something for Lent was 1996 and it was chocolate. I remember the sense of satisfaction I had at the end of 40 days and 40 nights of chocolate free existence. I felt righteous, I felt smug. I'm not sure how I'll feel at the end of this and it should be easy seeing how I was once a vegetarian, but there's nothing like staring down the barrel of a long fast that makes you want to load up on contraband. For me I'm already having crazy pork cravings and Frank Bruni's New York Times review today of Momofuku Ssam Bar isn't helping. Oh the steamed pork buns.


Tuesday, February 20, 2007

"The Taquito Moment."

I'm not a big fan of sports let alone football and my sports knowledge is scant at best, but I do know what a Hail Mary pass is. It's when the football is thrown in desperation in an attempt to make any play even though the chance of success is very low. I have a vague memory of seeing the Washington Redskins pull this move during a game when I was a kid and I remember how the ball arced high in the air like a plea.

The email that I sent to Cute Girl
this morning was much like a Hail Mary pass -- a verbal lob arcing high into cyberspace. Maybe it was a bad play, but I had to know once and for all what happened if anything. When I called Dennise late last night to get her opinion on my first draft of the email, she said that it was time for a balls out, no fear action. I could even call it Operation Balls Out and we laughed at the acronym OBO. She referenced me back to a Washington Post article that she had sent me a couple of days before that talked of the little infractions that cause us to reject a suitor -- arm hair, an annoying laugh, or a love of day old taquitos from 7-Eleven. Maybe Cute Girl had her own Taquito Moment with me. Who knows, but I sent the email, my Hail Mary pass, and hopefully she'll let me know.

Balls out, baby. I have nothing to lose. You can read what I sent below.

* * *

So I was talking to my friend [J-Wo] yesterday, asking her opinion on a confusing situation. I told her how I had met up with a really cute girl for drinks on Sunday and everything had been going well. We later adjourned at a friend's house, bought some wine, and hung out a short bit before the cute girl spilled on wine on herself and wanted to go quickly home to change. But the thing was that the girl never came back and alerted me of her intention to stay home via text, which I thought was odd. I asked
[J-Wo] what she thought. Was the girl fleeing my presence or was there a more mundane explanation?

[J-Wo] didn't give me much insight, but she did say that I should email the girl and make a joke or something. So here I am, desperately thinking of a joke and failing.

Blah blah whatever. This email is probably unnecessary, but I just wanted to say that I have enjoyed talking to you over the last week and meeting up with you on Sunday. My apologies if I managed to offend or cause your sudden departure. The wine you chose was really excellent, btw. Better to drink than to spill.



Monday, February 19, 2007

"I'm just going to stay home tonight."

I'm not entirely sure I know what happened.

All I do know is that Cute Girl called me yesterday to see if I wanted to get a drink in the evening. Turns out she never made it to California and was in town. I did a little happy dance after we hung up the phone and began to eagerly look forward to the date.

It was great to finally meet up with her again and during the course of our drink we flirted and got to know each other more. She even said that she was interested in me, which was nice as I was crazy attracted to her. The plan had been to meet up with Lesbian Club after the drink and watch L Word at someone's house nearby. She even had a bottle of wine to bring.

Everything was seemingly going well. When we got to my friend's apartment, I introduced her to everyone and we opened the wine and sat down with some snacks. At one point CG got up and later came back to the room saying that she had spilled some red wine on her sweater and was going to go back to her place only a block away to get a new one to wear. Okay, we all said. Since she was so close to home, we figured she wouldn't be gone very long. But after 20 minutes or so -- maybe even a half hour -- we began to wonder what happened to CG. About that time I got a text on my phone from her thanking me for meeting up for a drink, but that she was going to stay home and hoped I had a good night.

So what the hell happened? Does anyone else think that it is incredibly weird to go home to get something and just text to say that you are staying after all? Or how about rude? Am I reading too much into a simple text?? It just seems like a 180 from the good time we were having over a drink.

One of two things could have happened. (1) She purposely spilled wine on herself looking for the quickest way to extract herself from an undesirable situation. Perhaps something happened in the distance from the bar to my friend's apartment to change her opinion of me. Or (2) something happened when she got home to make her want to stay. Perhaps she got tired all the sudden or felt silly drunk after one glass of wine. But I can't help but think it was a deliberate snub towards me.

Damnit, Cute Girl. I really wanted to like you.

Saturday, February 17, 2007

"Sounds like lesbian life is treating you kindly!"

Momentum. It can be defined as the "strength or force gained by motion or through the development of events." Momentum can be aptly applied to the early stages of a relationship. A smile leads to flirting, which leads to kissing, which leads to . . . what? With Ms. Lawyer and I had momentum last Sunday as we proceeded from bar to bar. We had plans to meet again for dinner first on Monday and then on Tuesday. But when she canceled on me because of work, momentum began to slow. I waited for alternative plans to form, maybe something on Valentine's Day since she had been so keen to do something then, but the best I got was the offer of a hurried dinner.

At TGI Friday's.

In Penn Station.

In her defense, I think she really wanted to see me and wanted to squeeze me in between coming from Long Island and heading back to the office. Even though I felt a little guilty for being a snob, I took a raincheck. There was no way I was stepping into Penn Station on Valentine's Day for a date at the food court even with the best intentions in mind.

When we finally met up for lunch on Thursday, it was at the aforementioned TGI Friday's. I had relented and agreed to be a good sport. We shared a sampler platter of wings, mozzarella sticks, and potato skins. She had a Bud Lite. I had water. Momentum . . . came to a crawl.

I like Ms. Lawyer -- enough to want to get to know her some more, enough to meet her TGI Friday's even though I am a foodie. There was flirting over our mediocre lunch and I was giving her all the signs of hey, let's get sumthin started here. We text and talk every day, but she has yet to ask me out for a real date and in the immortal words of Willow Rosenberg, bored now.

Where momentum slowed with Ms. Lawyer, things have picked up with Cute Girl. CG is a paralegal. CG is from California and lived in Seattle. CG and I have eerily similar tastes in music and food. CG and I spent all of Friday emailing back and forth. CG is . . . a former Mormon??

Trust me, it made for an interesting email conversation. I had to double check on the former part since I couldn't tell at first from the email. What? Is it possible to be gay and Mormon?? Definitely former, she said. She was even kicked out of Brigham Young University for being gay.

You go girl.

Thursday, February 15, 2007

"Okay. This is a wee bit of a gamble."

While Ms. Lawyer and I have had a hard time getting post make-out plans to come together, I have been cultivating an email relationship with Cute Girl. Remember her? She's Option Three, the one I met at my lesbian networking happy hour a couple of weeks ago. After she eagerly called me after leaving the bar on my work number no less, we have been emailing back and forth since. Low level chit chat and stuff, though she has said stuff like, ". . . have every intention of getting to know you. Dunno - like I said last night, (god, was that only last night?) it's not often that I'm able to connect with people in large social environs, and when that happens, I don't take it lightly. I don't take it heavily either, but I think you get it."

Too bad she's going to California and Nevada for a skiing vacation, which means that it will be a little bit of time before we can get together in person. She also sent me the following You Tube link as a valentine stating that she hoped that I got her sense of humor and didn't think she was a weirdo. It's okay, Cute Girl. I think it's funny too
. . . albeit very strange.

Wednesday, February 14, 2007

"I don't know how this workks. But. Ur lips wherte amazing! May I please take you to dinner?"

My date didn't happen last night. Ms. Lawyer's trial got in the way and after getting a call from her that she would have to reschedule, I schlepped home alone, stopping to buy cat food along the way. But between texting and calling, she must still be interested. I am, however, cautiously seeing where this is going since my heart barely survived 2006 intact.

So ladies and occasional gentlemen visitors, it is Valentine's day. That annual soul crushing holiday that wags its finger at singletons and smugly surrounds lovers in hearts and cheap drugstore chocolates. Though I might have a possible love thing going on, I am still very much a free agent, no one is sending me flowers, and the holiday still annoys me.

Actually its not the holiday that annoys me but the stuff that companies feel obligated to shill. Worst offender? The Vermont Teddy Bear Company. Maybe you saw some of the commercials on television in the run up to the 14th, but here's the You Tube link in case you haven't. I could make some snarky synopsis of it, but it really speaks for itself.

Anyway, remember OPMW's Single And Sane campaign? After some initial nominations, no one has emailed me, which means that there are only three sane, unattached lesbians out there. Seriously.
To get things going again, this is why I am Single And Sane:

* I am caring and down to earth.

* My last long term relationship was four years ago, which means I've had a lot of time to work through the bullshit.

* I recently put the kibosh on a crazy love situation that had dragged on longer than it ever should have, which means that I am crazy free!
* I am an amazing cook and even made cupcakes from scratch for my coworkers today.

* I work for an environmental non-profit.
* I recently became New Media Director for a start up media/pr business.

* I know all the little obscure places to go in New York, which means that my future girlfriend and I will never be bored.

* I know enough random crap about art and history that I can easily be a museum tour guide.

* I am nerdy, but have been told that I'm quite cute -- badonkadonk and all.

* I am super creative.
* For further information,
here's the link to my Craigslist ad that I ran last July.

If you think you're Single And Sane, here are the rules again:

1. Nominate yourself or a friend as Single And Sane. Don't be shy.

2. Email me with your nomination (email address is in my profile).

3. Provide a short list and reason why you or your lesbian friend is Single And Sane and why this is a crime. You can keep you or your friend's name anonymous. Don't worry -- I have a big respect for privacy and this exists only as a spotlight for the wrongfully overlooked.

4. I post nominations. You restore my faith in humanity and specifically the lesbian world. The caveat is if you send in a nomination and you're clearly neither single nor sane, I won't post it.

5. Depending on how successful this experiment is, I post nominations either weekly or monthly in addition to my own finds in the field. If no one emails in, well there's no hope for any of us or some of you are way to busy drinking herbal tea.

There you go. Prove me wrong. Spread the word far and wide across the lesbian land. Tell your friends to prove me wrong. C'mon, I'm waiting.

Monday, February 12, 2007

"Can I ask you something?"

Guess who has a date tonight? Mememememe!

Let's rewind.

By last Wednesday, it looked as though I had a lot of options. There was even an Option Four on Friday when a friend of mine said over drinks at Cattyshack that a friend of hers was interested. I even ran into K who I know has a little crush on me. Would that be Option 5?

I saw Ms. Lawyer on Friday when she met up with Lesbian Club. We hung out and talked, but I still wasn't sure if she was interested. I know, I'm dense. However Ms. Lawyer was dirty dancing with hot girls and not so much with me.

On Sunday Mr. Bad Apologies texted me to get together and I lured him to Brooklyn with a plan of going to the Brooklyn Museum of Art. Thinking that Ms. Lawyer would like to join us, I called her and found her slaving away at the office. It was easy to convince her to leave her case behind and join Mr. BA and I at the museum. We made an afternoon of it later going to Bar Sepia for a couple of beers before moving on for dinner. Mr. BA had to head back to Manhattan, but Ms. Lawyer and I carried on. Dinner lead to drinks and then lead to another bar for a couple beers.

While at Patio Lounge, she asked all about me. When did I first come out? Where have I traveled? When I talked of my most recent trip abroad, she said, "I want to go to Amsterdam! Will you go with me?"

"Yeah but I'm broke and after the hellishness of my last trip, I shouldn't be traveling anywhere anytime soon."

"No, we should go! When can you go?"

"Maybe if money were no object."

"Think you can get off in a few weeks?"

Um, was she serious?

We also talked about Valentine's Day. "What are you doing?"

"You know, sit at home with my two cats feeling sorry for myself," I quip.

"We should do something. What can we do? Think of something crazy."

I was at a loss for crazy ideas. My (lame) idea of going to the Empire State Building got shot down.

"Let's go skiing and go to a bed and breakfast. Can you get off?"

I remembered that I have a meeting on Wednesday and pointed out that this coming weekend is a holiday weekend. Suddenly we were forming a plan to go on Saturday and come back on Monday. She made me pinkie swear that I'll do this. Okay, if you're paying . . .

We left Patio Lounge since it was getting late, but she steered me towards another bar. By now it was 11:30 and 5th Avenue was desolated.

"No, no. We should go. It's getting late."

"One more. Let's get a night cap!"

My resolve to get home at a decent hour crumbles as we go into Lobo for one more drink.

As we talked some more, she moved closer.

"Can I ask you something?" she said.

"You can ask me anything you like."

"Can I kiss you?"


After some kissing in the bar, she confesses, "I was just going to keep ordering drinks till you kissed me."

I smiled. We kissed some more. The bar was closing so we have to go. It takes some effort to get her into a car service, but she reluctantly goes. I get a cab back to my place. When I call her to let her know that I get home safely, she asks me out for dinner.

My friends, I have a real, honest to god date tonight. Fo reals.

* * * Edit * * *

Date got rescheduled for tomorrow as she has to be in court super early. Still trying to figure out how serious she was about all these spontaneous plans.

Thursday, February 08, 2007

"I know I've been missing in action . . ."

L Word 11215Another lesbian bites the dust.

Ladies, let this be a cautionary tale, an example of crazy lesbianism in action, the opposite of what I strive for with OPMW. Remember Nina and her girlfriend Chris? Perhaps not, but here's a refresher. Nina is a good friend of mine that I met through Lesbian Club, the kind of person you could call at any hour if you needed help -- that kind of friend.
when she started dating Chris three months or so ago, I was dismayed that she completely fell into the Relationship Vortex™. I wasn't the only one dismayed and friends vented their frustration at varying times.

I haven't seen Nina since the disastrous birthday party last month. When I got back from Europe, she didn't call or email. Whenever I would see Wendy, our mutual friend, I'd ask, "Have you heard from Nina??" The answer was always no.

It's not that I don't want my friends to be in a relationship. I do, however, take umbrage when they go completely MIA in favor of their girlfriend. In this case Nina entered a crazy lesbian co-dependent relationship and slowly began to forget about her friends. It didn't help that her girlfriend lived in Pennsylvania.

I got an email from Nina today, the first real contact I've had from her in a month. When she didn't call me back or ask how my trip to Europe was, I was hurt. In her email she said that she was moving in with Chris and her three kids next month, which meant that she would be moving from Park Slope to Pennsylvania and although she apologized for being MIA, it seemed that the real reason for emailing me was to find out if I knew anyone who would want to take her apartment.


"I adore you."

As the temperature has slowly climbed back towards normal cold instead of ass freezing, fingers numb cold, so has my love life. Girls have been flirting. I have been
. . . flirting back. What what? Has Hell frozen over in addition to New York?

Option One:

P, the hot butchie Columbian girl. She definitely flirts with me and her self professed predilection for strap-ons and sex parties definitely raises this woman's eyebrow in a hmmm, tell me more kind of way, but is younger and seems more suited for sexy naked time than partner status.

Option Two:

L, the older, beautiful trial lawyer from Tennessee by way of Bay Ridge. Total power dyke, wants to be the bread winner so she can take care of her woman. She fulfills all my Law & Order fantasies, but I'm getting mixed signals. Is she interested or just friendly? Maybe I'm just being dense. You decide.

Last night I attended a networking happy hour hosted by Out Professionals. Small bar + lots of lesbians = lots of jostling. Anyway, I hung out with some of my Lesbian Club members including Lawyer Girl, who is a recent addition. We hang out, talk, blah blah, get drunk, and then go in search of food since I am drunk and need something to soak up the martini and red wine. Since she is a lawyer, she has some deal thing with a car service and insists on dropping me home. Bonus. So we head back in the car and she says, "You should just crash with me." Okay, whatever. I'm easy. More conversation happens as she tries to work out the driving details with the driver. He keeps asking what my address is and I give him directions. I think she says something to him like, "I'm trying to get a girl to go home to me." Is she just being funny?

We talk some more about girls and relationships. At one point she puts a hand on my knee and says, "So what are you looking for?" I give her my whole I just want someone who's sane and got their shit together speech. We go back and forth a little before she says, "Rouge, I adore you." Again, is she just being friendly or flirty?

When the driver ends up driving to my place instead of Bay Ridge, she seems disappointed. Frankly I was getting a little acclimated to the idea of crashing at her place. Oh well. We're supposed to meet up on Friday, so there's still time to get to know each other.

On the downside, she's seven years older than me and in that point her in life where she wants to buy a place, settle down, and have kids. She's well aware that I don't want kids (or at least that's how I feel at 28), so is she really getting all up in my grill?? PS -- she totally texted me this morning to say, "Rise and Shine! Have a good day. See you Friday."

Option Three (Oh yes, there's an Option Three):

Flashback to last night's networking happy hour. In the jostling of 200 lesbians trying to navigate a small room and the path to the bar, a really cute girl has to cut through a conversation that I'm having with a few of my friends in order to get to the bar. I graciously let her through and when she's gone, my friend and I remark on her hotness. Luckily for me, Cute Girl comes back with a beer and I start talking to her. She's from California and lives not too far from me. I tell her about Lesbian Club and we bond over our dislike of lesbian cliche sports activities (ie, softball). I lure her in with tales of Lesbian Club picnics in Prospect Park, nerdy activities, and brunches in her 'hood. "Okay, I'll definitely sign up," she says with a smile. I give her my business card and tell her to email me if she wants to get on my list. When she leaves to go meetup with a friend, my friends say that Cute Girl was definitely interested in more than my group. Hmmm. Really?

The proof came this morning when I got into work and saw the red flashing light on my phone. Cute Girl had left a voice mail saying that she enjoyed meeting me and wants to get on my list and hopes to see me soon. If that wasn't enough, she left the message right after she left the bar. Either she's my new stalker or she's super eager to "network" with me.

Choices, choices, choices.

Wednesday, February 07, 2007

"Darling, where have you been in the last week?"

There is something about the cold -- bone chilling cold that sends the mind into hibernation and the body deep into the heated indoors. It has been hard to form coherent sentences much less a jaunty blog entry when it is 8 degrees outside. Instead I have been retreating to the warmth of soups -- especially the amazing cassoulet I had at a French restaurant on Monday -- and the comfort of my duvet.

Today it is 24 degrees, a veritable heatwave compared to last week's single digit temperatures. I have the requisite layers on, my hair is flat from having been stuck under a hat at various times today, and my hands are dry from the cold. Now you understand where I've been, J-Wo.

I have also been:

* Joining a bocce ball league
* Working on a writing project
* Getting two big freelance jobs lined up
* Hanging out with coworker friends in Park Slope
* Coming out to coworker friends

That aside, I have been organizing Lesbian Club with renewed vigor. Tonight is a networking happy hour for lesbian professionals and Friday is a trip to my favorite dyke bar, Cattyshack. I'm hoping to discover some more candidates for OPMW and perhaps flirt with some of them.

Speaking of which, Ms. Snarker asks if I got "any more interesting responses to your single and sane call to arms?" The answer is sadly no, which means that either there is a serious dearth of Single And Sane lesbians out there, or they are all too shy to email me.

Expect a Valentine's edition of OPMW.

Thursday, February 01, 2007

"Bands that make you gay. . ."

Well I never. Music apparently makes you gay. Or rather specifically listening to a cadre of offending artists that would make a frat boy don a feather boa and chaps. I would link directly to the site, but it's a Christian ministry and, well, in this day of reverse link lookup, I could do without the crazies. How about
this link instead?

In case you were wondering which bands make you gay, here's their list (my comments in parentheses)

* The Spores (Who??)
* Scissor Sisters (All of England must be gay.)
* Rufus Wainwright (
The man sang Julie Garland songs at Carnegie Hall. You decide.)
* Merzbau
* Ravi Shankar
* Wilco
* Bjork
* Tech N9ne
* Ghostface Killah
* Bobby Conn
* Morton Subotnik
* Cole Porter
* The String Cheese Incident
* Eagles of Death Metal
* Polyphonic Spree
* The Faint
* Interpol (How??)
* Tegan and Sara (Lesbian twins = good times)
* Erasure
* The Grateful Dead
* Le Tigre
* Marilyn Manson
* The Gossip
* The Magnetic Fields
* The Doors
* Phish
* Queen
* The Strokes
* Sufjan Stevens (The man sings about his love of Christ. Totally gay.)
* Morrissey
* Metallica
* Judas Priest (Why it took 20 years for everyone to realize Rob Halford is gay is beyond me.)
* The Village People
* The Secret Handshake
* The Rolling Stones
* David Bowie
* Frankie Goes to Hollywood (Frankie says relax.)
* Man or Astroman
* Richard Cheese
* Jay-Z
* Depeche Mode
* Kansas
* Ani DiFranco
* Fischerspooner
* John Mayer
* George Michael
* Angel Eyes
* The Indigo Girls
* Velvet Underground
* Madonna
* Elton John
* Barry Manilow
* Indigo Girls
* Melissa Etheridge
* Eminmen
* Nirvana
* Boy George
* The Killers
* Lou Reed
* Lil' Wayne
* Motorhead
* Jill Sobule (She kissed a girl.)
* Wilson Phillips (If you are listening to Wilson Phillips in 2007, you definitely pass the gay test. Or at the very least, the bad taste in music test.)
* Lisa Loeb
* Ted Nugent
* Dogstar
* Thirty Seconds to Mars
* Lil' Kim
* kd lang
* Frank Sinatra
* Hinder
* Nickleback (Not gay, just a bad band.)
* Justus Kohncke
* Bob Mould
* Clay Aiken (Kelly Rippa doesn't know where his hands have been.)
* Arcade Fire
* Bright Eyes
* Corinne Bailey Rae
* Audioslave
* Red Hot Chili Peppers
* Panic at the Disco
* Elton John (So gay that they listed him twice.)

I'll let you ponder that list, especially what Ol' Blue Eyes could have done to get on it. While you do that, consider that alcohol also has a high risk of making you gay. Take for example the phenomena of being "gaysted," which is so wasted that you'll engage in homosexual acts even though you're straight.


"I have a fetish for girls in glasses."

As I've said in previous blog entries, not a whole lot of people know that I have a blog apart from my friends back in DC. A smattering of people in New York know about it, but an even smaller number have the address, which allows me to talk about everyone behind their back.

Just kidding.

It does, however, allow me some degree of freedom and a lack of self censoring. And of my friends in New York that happen to be reading this, a big huhllo! A couple of coworker friends are now in possession of this address and all I can say is that you were warned. One coworker asked me what my blog was about as we walked back from lunch.

Hmmm. How do I sum it up? How about humorous takes on my disastrous love life and the small catastrophes I seem to deal with on a regular basis? Lesbian-tastic? It used to be about the humor in every day New York flavored banality, but then realized that people were much more interested in my sex life.

Go figure.

Like I said, I had been walking back from lunch with four other coworker friends. As we pause to cross a street, I hear a voice from somewhere behind me.

"Young lady. Young lady."

I turn to see if the words are directed at me and I spot a man looking at me. Like every New Yorker, I take a second and a half to judge him on his level of crazy before deciding if I want to respond. If he was a well dressed professional, I would have thought that I had dropped a glove or had toilet paper trailing from a shoe and he in his infinite niceness had decided to help. Instead I see a man with a scraggly beard.

In that second and a half, he doesn't wait for me to respond.

"I have a fetish for girls in glasses."

Okay! Good to know. We continue walking, leaving Mr. Fetish trailing behind somewhere on 29th Street.

So what is my blog about? That, my friend, is what it's about. Crazy people who stop me on the street to say that they have a fetish and that I fit that fetish. Crazy people that remind me of all the previously crazy people who showed an interest in me and the rare few I even dated.

I should subtitle this blog New York Adventures in Crazy instead.