ikea hook-ups and a new bed

I have been to ikea an ungodly number of times this week. I'm moving into a nice new apartment, and my roommates and I have absolutely no furniture. Not even a lamp. I love ikea, don't get me wrong, but hours of staring at Lungervik and Smorgasond and Glutenvepen while avoiding runaway children, indecisive couples, and pushy old people is enough to make anyone contemplate mass assault. For the record, I resisted.

At the end, somewhere between giant pallets of end tables ($7.99) and bed frame components, I had a moment with a hot girl in a green sweater. I was casually browsing through a bin of discount picture frames when I turned and saw her. She was hot, oh yes, but there was something else about her. We did that gay stare acknowledgment thing, smiled, and I briefly imagined throwing her down onto a Sultan Fjordgard. Then my roommate called me crying from bin 23 and that fantasy evaporated. I rescued N. from the despair of a - gasp - heavy box. What is it with straight women and ikea dramatics? That was the second crying woman I encountered in the store. It's just furniture, people.

I am painting my new room a nice, bright green. I'll dedicate a tiny patch to hot ikea girl. Hopefully during one of my future visits, we'll meet again. I'll be by the queen sized Grimstad.

Speaking of Grimstad, I am having serious trouble deciding on a bed. It's really the only piece of furniture I can afford right now until I get a job. I've slept on crappy, secondhand, college beds my whole life and I think I'm done. Obviously I can't afford Crate & Barrel just yet. I like the Grimstad and the Floro, and upholstered beds in general. The search continues. I expect great things from this next bed.

worst lesbian ever

I was running late today (as I usually am), and as a result was harried as I got into the elevator in my apartment. That's the only excuse I can think of to give myself for what transpired after that.

One of the mountee-looking security personnel guys who roam the grounds of my complex got into the elevator with me. I barely noticed him because I was thinking "how fucking long does it take for an elevator door to close?" I was also mentally deciding if I'd remembered my moisturizer, because my hands felt like sandpaper. Anyway, he starts asking me how long I've lived in the building, which then got us to my grad program, which got us to movies.

He's asking me what my favorite movies are, and I tell him some of my classics. Turns out one of my all-time crappy favorites is one of his, too, and he can quote it so I know he isn't full of shit. He starts asking me if I have a lot of friends in LA (I know, I know), and I'm like, "oh, you know, I'm still trying to make friends outside of my roommates." He agrees that's the toughest part of moving to a new place and is like, "We should catch a movie some time, I could show you some great places to meet people. Maybe this weekend?" I'm like cool, sure! I'm in friend mode, why not?

So the elevator finally opens and out we go. I tell him I'm really running late, but we can exchange info later. He says no problem, he's seen me around before. I smile, wave, already thinking about how I'm going to have to go 90 MPH to make it to class on time. That's when he drops the bomb:

"So, are you single?"

Wow, I am the biggest moron on the planet. Naturally, I'm a fun combination of embarrassed, surprised, caught off-guard, and more embarrassed. I mumbled yes and ran out of there like my shoe was on fire. Oy fucking vey, what a damned idiot I am. Once I got to the safety of my car and replayed the conversation in my mind, this guy wasn't being coy or subversive, I'm just a DUMB ASS. Which I will have to admit to when I see him again. At the moment I've taken to sprinting to my car and to the elevator.

My roommate: "Or, you could just go out with him."

Me: "How would that be better than admitting I'm an idiot? Remember that little thing about being gay?"

My roommate: "It would make a great blog post."

I hate living with other writers.

lesbian poker and making friends

I've been a little homesick lately. I think it's a combination of a few things - passing the two-month mark, being stressed about writing and work, and missing my friends.

It's so weird to have to make gay friends. Everyone I work with is straight, my roommates are all straight, the people in my grad program are straight. So I have to make an extra effort, which is like middle school all over again. I once made the mistake of going to a gay club alone. The only thing I was missing was a backbrace to complete the dork aura. I swear, I didn't even think about it until I walked in and realized I was that moron at a club by themselves. I pretended to be completely engrossed in: ordering a drink, my watch, and my iphone until I gave up and left.

So yeah. In order to not do that again, I joined a lesbian poker group. I'm actually horrible at poker. Like, epically bad. It's probably because I make no effort to remember the rules, and since I play so infrequently, every time I play is like my first time. Whatevs. I'm a lesbian, that's like 50% of the requirement. Maybe I'll get some hot poker shark to teach me and I'll go on to win tournaments worldwide, in manner of Annie Duke.

My best friend back in Boston forced me to sign up for this personals website with her, which I did because I'm a rad friend. I got some amusement out of the ridiculous responses I got (mostly polyamorous people...wonder what that says about my attributes), but mostly forgot about it. I got a reply the other day and am considering meeting up with this person, strictly as a friend thing. I'm not sure what the odds are that this person will be 80% normal, and not kill me and turn my skin into some multi-racial trench coat. We have a bunch in common, so I'll message her and see how it goes.

Just in case, I'll make sure I leave my nunchuks in the car.

forgive me, internet, for I have sinned...

It has been four months since my last confession blog post. I have been busy, for sure, but I have sorely missed writing. So here I am.

Some things have changed. I'm living in LA now instead of Boston. Which has been both thrilling and nerve-wracking. On the plus side, it's always flip-flop season, and no one looks at you like you're a douchebag for using a bluetooth with your iphone. The downside is I have to find a new place to get my eyebrows waxed, among other things. I hate it when they do them too thin, I also hate when they give me that soap opera arch shit - like you're perpetually surprised about something.

I have basically come out to everyone on the planet except my mother and father. My older sister, younger sisters, my friends, co-workers, etc. etc. I think I've done everything short of wearing a toolbelt while making out with girls to a tegan and sara soundtrack.

My friends have asked me when I plan to drop the L-bomb on my parents. I'm not sure. I definitely felt this huge weight to tell my sisters and non-parental family, but I don't exactly feel that way about mom and dad. Maybe it's because they're naturally not privy to all the details of my private life? I don't know. I'm considering it, though. This will sound shitty, but it helps that I'm less close to them than I have been in the past, so I don't care what they think as much.

I have officially been to West Hollywood! I'm growing up so fast..

gay divorce for all - and gay parties galore

You know what's worse than spilling scalding hot coffee on your dress pants at 9am? Finding out California upheld Prop 8 a few hours later. It's so fucking frustrating to think we're still dealing with this kind of inequality in 2009. Unfortunately, we are. I still hold out hope that these laws will soon be changed. In the meantime we need to stay vocal and skip a dinner out once in awhile to donate to the cause. Someday we'll all be able to have blissful marriages and horrific divorces equally. And divorce lawyers everywhere will begin putting down payments on houses in the Virgin Islands.

Based on the number of parties I've already gotten invites to for Pride Week, I'm going to need No Doz and Amphetamines running through my veins at all times. It's been hard narrowing it down and I'm thinking I might as well go all out for my first year of being out for Pride. I won't be satisfied unless I'm drenched in something alcoholic and have made out with at least 3 girls. Kidding. Mostly.

graduated and out!

I got my master's! Thank you, jebus. I was one of four students of color graduating from my department, so I feel a little extra pride at being so badass.

I was kind of cool kid blase about the whole cap and gown thing again, but when I picked up my robes I admit I was excited. No more school for me, forever. Which is really a good thing, because I was running out of room on my ass for Sallie Mae to tattoo promissory notes. I wish my maternal grandmother was alive, she always told me I'd accomplish big things. This one's for you, nana, and it's just the beginning.

I've been dying to post this update for months and months, and I finally summoned the courage last week to get it done: I came out to my older sister.

It was a perfect storm of a WTF day and being sick of lying about it. We decided to go out for lunch and have margaritas because we both felt like drowning our sorrows in a blooming onion (don't look up how many calories are in those things unless you want to die). I was waiting for the "perfect moment" - which we all know never comes. We ate, commiserated, whatever, and I still hadn't done it.

But I was totally determined, so I did it in the car. It was my typically smooth delivery, I didn't come out to her so much as I asked her to help me come out to my younger sisters. I know, I'm Captain Suave. She was actually happy I'd told her and was glad I'd never "have to deal with having a husband." Ha. Then she started asking me what she could and couldn't say in case of offending me. That's hilarious because I've been trying to get my family to stop saying "that's gay" for months and months. They'd always just roll their eyes at me...I guess now I actually have the gay card, so they'll listen. Whatevs.

Next mission, should I choose to accept: finish off coming out to the family. They're throwing me a graduation party next weekend, maybe I'll stand on a table and do it all in one shot. Or maybe I'll just order a cake that looks like a pair of boobs. One or the other.

P.S. - If you're not already watching Los Hombres de Paco for Pepa and Silvia, what the crap are you waiting for? There's an English subtitled channel on YouTube. Basically it's a Spanish soap with an amazingly hot female couple. Just trust me on this one.

lesbian speed dating recap

I'm still alive. Theoretically. I just happen to be 4 days (oh god) away from handing in my final work as a graduate student, and considering my natural propensity for procrastination, I've been a bit occupied. These last couple of weeks have been primarily spent either a) writing, b) sleeping, c) watching Guiding Light. A few of my friends have put out an APB on me. On a relevant note, my pilot script and screenplay are both about lesbians, because that's how I roll. I'm writing for the cause, you could say. I will probably be returning to a more regular posting routine after Friday. Since I know all 5 of you care. I am also really behind on blog reading/commenting, which I will get back on top of at the end of the week.

But I did promise an update on lesbian speed dating, didn't I?

I have no idea what burst of courage got me to go, as I'm generally pretty shy toward new people, especially new people you're sitting in front of judging and being judged in every possible way imaginable. I think it was partially for the amusement of saying I'd gone. That and a strong does of heroin beforehand.

Let's just say there were no love connections made. Although I did have a couple of good political discussions. And L Word rants. It was a little odd in the fact that everyone there looked very similar and had similar traits, likes, and dislikes. I met one non-vegetarian/vegan during my dosi-do and discussed many bands and artists I wouldn't be able to identify if my next breath depended on it. Met at least 5 people who work for nonprofits and decided that stereotypes are partially true and also kind of amusing when you think about them. I still wouldn't be caught dead in flannel.

I do have one minor rant to get off my chest. I was seriously disappointed by the general sloppiness of the attendees. Seriously, people, I'm all for women's lib or whatever, but if you're going out with the intent to *date* the least you can do is comb your hair, iron your clothes, and shine up your scruffy ass boots. If I have to bring you lotion on our dates, it's probably not going to work out. I swear, I felt like a superficial bitch, but come on.

Which brings me to my next/final point. I think I've mentioned before that I hate the whole butch/femme dichotomy as something you have to subscribe to. I think it's lame and outdated as a rule because I've met few people that fall into such black and white designations. That said, everyone has their preferences, and I definitely felt like there were more andros and butch types there. Although I'm certainly open to new flavors, that's generally not my taste, so. Oh well. It was good to go and get the experience of it. Hopefully the next few events are a little more diverse.

This all makes me sound like a picky, judgmental bitch, but I assure you I'm not. I have the pictures of my ex-boyfriends to prove it.

Anyway, I have a new girlfriend because I found out Nicole Pacent is a lesbian. 'Anyone But Me' is an awesome web series, btw, check it out if you can.