Frequent Dyke-Spotting in the Wilds

I am doing my super duper best to be a good little girl and not fuck myself up more than I already have. I am trying to stay out of love, flirtations, crushes, obsessions, and any kind of relationship. I am so bad at that. It's not my fault! The world is against me.

Aaand my campus is absolutely filled with gorgeous dykes in all types and flavors. That makes it so hard to resist! You can easily say no to ice cream when your only option is vanilla, but I'm at Baskin Robins and I am on a diet. Sniff.

Also, I am so good at crushes. I can develop them in a second. Then I continue, then I try to force myself to not like them (sometimes successfully, sometimes not).

So I've told myself that I can look, but I can't flirt. Sometimes I get caught looking. Oops. (She looked back, so it's fine. And I actually met her that evening, and it wasn't even awkward.) So my problem of too-many-flavors has become something I thought I should blog about. Why? Because I can, that's why. Ha. First off, I do have a crush on a girl, because she's cool and pretty, and everything I want to be, as well as everything I want. I met her girlfriend, and  thought meeting her girlfriend would make it stop, but now I just have a crush on both. And an intense OMGLet's-Be-Friends feeling too, because they are that cool. My only hope now is that they think I'm cool too, except I'm not, so I'll just go back to the uncool person hole where I belong.

Classic Lipstick. Also, classically beautiful.

Here's a summary of the different kinds of lesbian abound on this particular campus. Now, we have a lot of students, but we also have far more dykes than percentages would normally allow. I believe this is because A) We're a liberal college, B) I hang out in the artsy/Englishy areas and there are so many lesbians there and C) I eat breakfast at the vegan-friendly/organic dining hall. Who likes organic? Dykes like organic.

Lipstick Lesbians/High Femmes- Hot fucking damn. These girls are rare, but amazing. The girl I was checking out? High femme. If you don't know what these terms mean (surely you do. That's what Effing Dykes is for), lipstick and high femme are the girls who you can't tell are lesbians. They paint their nails, wear high heels and skirts, do their hair and full make-up every day, and are usually pretty ladylike. They are feminine to the extreme, and usually don't fit in with many lesbian stereotypes. I can't make generalizations on their personalities though, because it's easier to generalize looks than personalities. That goes for all the following types, too.

I would say there's actually quite of these floating around on campus, but they're hard to spot, especially if you don't have great gaydar (like me). Bi girls are often mistaken for lipstick. But not they're not, because they're bisexual damnit!

Baby Dyke- My friends call me this, but I'm not, not really. Baby dykes probably just came out of the closet, and they are completely embracing their new identities. You see brand-new buzzed/shaved heads, mohawks, and enough flannel to outfit all the lumberjacks ever. Baggy jeans and skate shoes are also a favorite of these girls. Most are either in your face or completely shy. Catch a baby dyke looking you up and down, and she'll either nod and smile, or she'll turn beet red and look down. (That's not from experience, that's observation.)

Okay, this isn't a baby dyke. But so pretty!

Our campus is teeming with baby dykes, especially now. They've had a couple of months to realize/confirm/come out that they're gayelles, and now they want to prove it. Baby d yke is a phase- that's not a slam, it really is just a phase, because you get a little older and more confidant in your style and sexuality and adapt a different style. And if you do like the new look, you become a butch girl. Baby dykes are adorable, but they're so self-conscious and scared. I was a baby dyke for awhile- though I didn't shave my head, and my baby dyke phase actually happened when I was still "bisexual".

Butch- I love these girls, and they know it. They have to know it. My head swivels like an owl when there's a butch girl around. This is because they are so gay, even I (with my shitty gaydar) can tell it. Now, most college butch girls are a little... er, cooler than most butch girls in the wild. These girls know how to dress. They like bright colors and good shoes. They cute their hair short (this is pretty much a must. You very rarely see a butch with shaggy hair) and have more hair gel than I do. I assume they have some kind of memo about where the good jeans, hoodies, jackets, and messenger bags are, because you never see them look bad in any of those things.

Clea Duvall, Dykon and fetch.

We have soooo many of these girls, and they are daily temptations. Not that there's any chance- but they definitely make me want to flirt/embarrass myself. I always allow myself one good look per butch girl though- they have to know they're getting attention, and damn, they want it. Especially my kind of attent- No! BAD! *cough* I'm on a butch girl diet! I'm on an all girl diet! No fish for me! The girl to the right is Lyndell Montgomery, the musician, and the best example of college butch I could find. Even though she's not in college.

Fetch/Futch/Bluejean/Chapstick Lesbian- Meeeeee! These are the girls that you just can't pin down. We mess with your head. This can be done in two ways, as far as I can tell. You've got the girls who every day, perfectly mix femininity and masculinity to perfect the fetch (femme + butch) look. It can be done in any way, but it's always just right! I can't describe that kind of fetch outfit, though, because I don't wear my style like that. I mess with my style everyday, some days looking very butch (cargo jeans with combat boots, tank top, dog tags, and fedora) or very femme (skirt, heels, cleavage, jewelry). Most of the time, I mess with both, because I'm lazy. Heels and jeans, skirt and combat boots, skinny jeans and baggy shirt, anything I goddamn want.

There's a lot of girls like this on campus, and it's awesome. There's a girl I see on the way home from class and she never is dressed in the same style, and I admire it. She just couldn't care less what she's supposed to look like, and I think more people- gay and straight- are beginning to dress for themselves. Of course, it's assumed we all dress for ourselves, but sometimes you turn down that blue dress or crazy heels because you don't usually wear things like that and you don't want to be judged, by your friends, your potential mates, and yourself. But now we've got fashion icons that don't give a shit, so we follow their lead.

Also, I'm just too lazy to look for something just right. I take clothing that I've had for years and mix it up out of boredom, because I don't have the time or money to buy new things to mix it up.

So those are the most frequent types of fagette you'll find on my college campus. You'll note that there aren't any bull dykes, bois, or lumberjack lesbians listed. That's because I think they're very very rare here. But they exist- and I'll get to that next post, a listing of the most noticeable gayelles I've seen so far.

But I'm a Cheerleader!

Okay, so I left off the reviews because I'm super lazy, and back in school, it's hard to find the time to watch/ listen/ research and write. But then I got an email from someone saying they missed the reviews, asking when they would be back. And that is how reviews came back into being.

"I'm a homosexual!" As is life, the fun in "But I'm a Cheerleader" begins with those words. I love this movie so much, and I always have. I watched it first with Ms. Biffle, and she already knew the words. Since we missed the first part, she summarized it, complete with interpretive dance.

I personally believe this movie should be required for all baby dykes within the first month of watching. I watched it before I came out, and I was awkwardly attempting to be all lusting after my current boyfriend and avoid liking her. At this point, we were consciously avoiding romantic situations and any physical contact- seriously closeted, basically. I spent my nights awake, wondering if I could go on like that, if I should come out or just keep trying to be straight. I really needed this movie, because I needed to laugh at my situation, needed to see overdramatic reactions I probably wouldn't get, and I really needed to see some cheesey, super-saturated rainbow love prevail.  That's why I say baby dykes need to see it- after coming out of the stinky closet, you need to remember to laugh. You need to remember that decisions should be your own, and you should do what's right for you. You need an absurd reminder that not all girls wear pink and you can be a cheerleader and a lesbian. You need a reminder that gender roles and sexuality are so much more complex than the heteronormative world really lets people know. It also reminds you that there isn't one way to be a lesbian, and the movie says so in so many words.

In fact, one of the most touching moments is when Jan, the bull dyke, suddenly realizes she isn't a lesbian. It was a bit of an eye opener, and you really feel for her.

After watching this again- more than a year later after the first time- I can laugh at it more. I laughed the first time- a lot- but now I can be more open. No more nervous tittering and hoping to God that nobody suspects- open guffawing every thirty seconds. This movie is truly hilarious in how ridiculous it is, and it really is a breath of fresh air, especially in a world of tragic lesbian movies.

That said, there are stereotypes galore, especially with the gay boys- most of them are lisping and effeminate, while the lesbians are more diverse. Even that is done to the extreme for comedic effect, but I kind of wish they did the same thing with the lesbians- made them as butch as possible, wearing flannel and such. It would have been funny- but it also would have messed with the whole "our protagonist is femme and that's why she didn't get it" thing, which is inarguably the biggest plot point.

There was one line that hurt when I first watched it, and still stings a little. From the bitter failed gay boy, told he's not straight enough- "Congratulations liars! You know who you are and you know who you want! Ain't nobody gonna change that!" Every time he says it, he calls me out for trying so damn hard to be just another straight girl. Every time, he makes me glad that I finally recognized that that's just not the life for me- a life of pretending just doesn't work in the real world. And when it does work, it's miserable.



So yeah, watch this movie and laugh. Watch it and be really surprised when you learn something about yourself. Watch it and hate the color pink for at least a week.

Club Kids!

Hullo! This week has been... hmm. Interesting! Fun! Tragic! Exuberant! Full of adjectives!

So yesterday, I went two supergeh meetings and I adored both of them, as I am wont to do. Meeting one was for the bisexuals. I'm not bi, and the girl I went with (who will probably show up a lot now because it's school year, so she might get her very one blog-nickname) is straight, so basically we're there because... fun! Less fun, and more because it's nice to talk to people about gay things. It really is. We even talk about such things as sex and relationships, and really, politics/religion just don't enter the question. Which is nice, because I am bored of politics.

The other meeting was for the polyamourous/kinky/asexual ones and this one is HELLA fun. We brought along our other two friends for this ones (they also need some nicknames, actually) and it's a good time. I like it because I'm interested in polyamory, and I've got me some kinks. The best part of both meetings, of course, is the people. So here's a cast list, with nicknames or generic descriptions. Woo!

The Core Cast (My Best Friends)Geekette- She went to both meetings with me, last week and this week. She's adorably nerdy, awkward, and funny as hell. Straight, and looking for her dream nerd. Applications accepted, bitches.

SweetAss McBitchFace- My favorite gay man, tall, dark, handsome, and sarcastic. He's also funny as hell, and has a tendency to hump his close friends. Which is partially why we love him. He went to the kink meeting for the first time yesterday.

Bestie- Not to be confused with Ms. Biffle, Bestie is my roommate, and a secret kinkster. She went to her first kink meeting yesterday as well.

The Bisexual Spectrum Kids
Queen Bee- She runs the meeting, and is pan, funny, and very open. Also, touched Bestie while making examples and I'm pretty sure all of the Core got a little protective, just because that's how we work.

King Bee- He runs the meeting too, and is bi. He's funny, sweet, and you can tell he cares. He has, however, hit on SweetAss before, so SweetAss is a little wary of him.

LoudGirl- is loud. And opinionated and has lots of stories. She's nice, but I wish there was volume control on her. She's pan and a freshman.

MaybeButch- We can't tell if she's butch or trans, but either way, she's bi. She doesn't bind, but her hair is short. She's very nice, makes quiet funny comments, and I kinda want to envelope her in my arms like one does with helpless baby birds. That said, I feel like she's most definitely not helpless... Just quiet.

CuteLilButchGirl- She's in my class. I want to be friends, and I sort of want her. I find her fascinating and awesome and I really wish she found me fascinating and wanted to be my friend too. However, I'm pretty sure she couldn't care less that I exist. Not that she's rude- she's just focused on other things than me, and I'm too shy to be bold.

Quiet Boy- I love him, I want to hug him, I want to be his friend and hold him like a baby bird. He's such a sweet guy, and I feel like things have been tough. I see some pain in him, and I hate seeing pain.

The Poly-Kink Club KidsQueen Bee and King Bee run this meeting too, with the help of Cute Lil Butch Girl.

FunnyAsexualGirl- I associate her with funny comments and ice cream, because she keeps bringing it. Eventually I will jump her for her ice cream, I think.

Golden Couple- The polyamorus poster children. The couple that proves it can work, but you have to do it right. Though, frankly, I'm so tired of hearing about it. And I'm interested, so I can only imagine what it's like for the ones who don't care.

and then all of the above, actually. I only listed the people I think will continue to be players.

I was going to continue with a summary and such, but I hear loud poppy noises outside, so I'm going to finish this before some dumb college kid kills me with a firecracker.

The Class of Clitorists

*genteel cough* Not to, y'know, be an observer of attractive dykes or anything, but I have a class that is haven for the lady-lovin' ladies. This is surprising because A) It is not a women's or queer studies class. That's usually where all the chicks are at. Why? Because everyone says that to be a "true" lesbian, you must know the history of feminism and all that, to be able to lecture all the "breeders" on the past sins of all heterosexuals.I happen to think that's bullshit because the chick who brings rants to a party is left in the corner. And by party I mean life in general. Nobody wants to be friends with a walking lecture. B) The class has a horrible time slot in a horrible building, so I kind of assumed not many people would be there anyway, let alone five lesbians.

After several classes of somewhat sneaky observation (I want to make friends and all, but I don't want to accidentally start a conversation with a Captain Crazy. And let me tell you, there's a lot of crazy clitorists in the world. I've even been one), I have figured out a rough estimate of the girls.

The Baby Butch- I want to put her in my pocket. I want her to want to put me in her pocket. I want to be friends simply because she possesses waves of cool that spill out of her pores. She has a slightly midwestern accent, dog tags, facilitates the kink club, and is basically the outspoken, confidant woman I so desire to become. I guess part of me wishes that if I associate with girls like her, I will be more comfortable in being my own self. Cheesy? Yes. Oh well.

Fresh-Faced Flannel- I think she might be bi, but not entirely sure. She wears a lot of plaid and talks with her best (guy) friend in a way that imitates classic baby dyke speech patterns. Nice, obviously shy, and a cool girl but not one I'll end up talking to, just because we're on opposite ends of the classroom. Literally, I'm so far away from her that for a conversation, we'd have to set up tin cans and a string.

Multi-colored Giraffe- She is tall, gorgeous and her hair is at least three shades of pink and blonde. She checked out the girl in front of her in such a way that I have no doubt she's gay. Or maybe I just wish she was, even though I'm not going after anyone this semester.

Closeted Girl- How do I know? First off, I'm good at finding closeted gays. It's a skill, I think. Second off, I've had several classes with her, and sometimes she can't help but look at the ladies. Third off, she's timid, yet always tries to start conversations with someone who's clearly Out and Proud (like me and Baby). I don't think Baby Butch notices anyone all that much, actually, but I talk to Closet Case because I've been there, and she's cool, and it's nice to have friends in a crowded classroom, even if you're barely acquaintances

Bonus- Fetch Girl from another class- She's cool, calm, and collected. She's got confidence, smarts, and beautiful yet tasteful tattoos. Much like Baby Butch, I want to be friends because she intrigues me and because I want to surround myself with people who just don't give a damn what others think. Because right now, I need people who don't care what I do, because the ones I love are expressing concern that I'm antisocial when right now, I'm not looking for more people like them. I'm having a time period of "differently social". 

On a Serious Note- self discovery

...I said I would do a post about my dyke-filled class of wonder, and I will, but first a horribly emo update about my life. I broke up with my girlfriend of five months, whom I met online and was madly in love with- still am, actually- just a few days ago. Since then, I've been trying to keep myself distracted and busy so I didn't have time to think about her more than I already do and that hasn't much worked, but it has the unfortunate side effect of keeping me away from here, too.

I would do a blog about why we broke up, or how I feel, or how much I miss her and wish it wasn't necessary, but I can't, and you don't want to hear about it. In the end, I need to figure out who I am, for real, and I need to have the strength to stick with myself. Yes, that's what the rest of the blog will be- a continued musing of the last sentence.

See, even when I was faking it in straight relationships (though I tried really hard to love and be lustful for those guys), I tended to mimic their interests and personality. I tried to be the perfect girl, the one they wanted, the girl who let them win the arguments and liked their music. I do it with my friends, too. I simply find it much easier to go along with what the person I'm closest to wants than what I might really want. I give up things because they aren't enough like others, all the time. I give in to peer pressure incredibly easily. When you add the pressure of wanting to continue a relationship and be the perfect girl for someone, it only gets worse. Which is why, here I am, after several relationships and many friendships, not entirely sure of myself any more.

I never really was. Truth is, we can't escape other peoples' opinions, and that's okay. There's a fine line, though, between knowing what people might think, and never doing anything because someone else hasn't done it. Or may not approve. Or they like the opposite thing and you don't want to risk their love. Of course, there is an added element in that I move notoriously fast in my relationships. From first meeting (or message, because 3/4 of my relationships were began online) to announcing our status as dating is usually a week. I think it's a lot easier to move quickly online- you trick yourself into thinking you know more about them than you do. Before you even consider sending a first message, you already know their favorite music, whereas in real life, that (and more) are things you discover, settle into. Explore and establish. Also, online you can spend much more time "with" a person than you can in real life. You im during homework and while talking  with your friends, when you're eating or reading or watching a movie. You multitask, and so spend almost all your time with them very quickly. In real life, that builds up- from talking in class to exchanging numbers- over weeks. Online? A day, maybe.

So between my inability to define myself in my own terms, and to maintain a successful relationship in a slow setting, I've put a hiatus of all romance until December 6. No flirting (maybe a little, but nothing serious), no dating, only looking for new friends on all my dating sites, no attachment. After that, I'm re-evaluating. And then maybe I can go on dates- but no relationships for a little after that I think.

It's a step I needed to take. And hopefully, I will heal my identity and my broken heart in a healthy, mature manner. God, I hope so.

Maybe tomorrow I will discuss my dyke class, and the lovely meetings I got to have with le gays.

Friends, Stuff, and BOOOKS

It has been so incredibly busy that I haven't had time to properly write a post. In fact, as I write this, I am eating, nursing my ass-kicking foot (it's not kicking ass at the moment), organizing my room and procrastinating on homework. Since my last post, I've driven three days with my parents, arrived at school, survived a hurricane, and started classes. I've also done lots of other little things that I won't get into detail because you would probably be kinda bored.

The three day trek across half the United States to my current residence in New England was sheer hell. I would rather ride in a car of rattlesnakes and scorpions than my parents. When I die, if there is a Hell, that's what it will be, an eternal car ride with my parents. My dad gets unreasonably angry like he's training in it, and my mom is the loudest silent sulker I know. Neither of them like it when I drive. Both get frustrated easily, and for a large percentage of the trip, I played mediator and court fool in the true sense of the phrase- making cracks and advisement to calm the Royal Parents' tempers. I seriously considered giving them both small toys and making them sit in the backseat so I could drive in peace. I would have kissed the ground when I got to school, if I didn't think it would cause another fight.

Immediately after I got to school, Hurricane Irene shook her ugly head at us, and the next two days are basically my friends and roommates sitting around in the candlelight, playing card games, talking, and drinking. It wasn't that bad here, just very very wet, and we lost power. It was kind of nice, actually- I remember a moment where I looked around at all of us, drinking our beers or mixed drinks, relaxed and telling all our awkward sex stories to the walls of candlelit shadows and I thought, "This is my life now."

I know that sounds silly, but it's true. My life during the summer was one of avoidance, of healing and of experiencing all the lezzie things I could, of creating words and fabric and art. My life now, in school for the third year, is of books and exploration, emotional control and learning about other people, myself, and how to handle it all. It consists of relaxation and stress in equal measure, and of knowing most of the people around me like gloves I haven't worn in a long time. We all fit together, but we're still changing our shapes a little. It reminds me of how much I love my friends, and how much we need each other, while at the same time reminding me of the need to explore my own shape, where I fit, what I will and can do.

I noticed that I've changed the most- where I used to be quiet about my sexuality, now I'm much more open. I've dealt with hate, with fear, and with so many other personal demons that I've become more confident. I don't care anymore if people judge me for being too gay. I don't care if I'm not gay enough. I'll work in my little projects and fix all the things I can, and someday I'll convince myself that I'm enough. I'm in no hurry.

What I am in a hurry with is my volunteer work. Wait, does one refer to it as volunteer if you started it? Anyway, that book thing I've been obsessing about? It works! People are involved, and not jut people I know. We're raising book supplies and money, and soon we'll be able to ship off the first package of books to the library. I'm hoping that if it succeeds in this library, I can expand it to others. The joy I get when people ask to join is so incredible. I could dance on the sun, for reals.

Between the pile for Operation Restock and my class books, I've got over fifty books on my desk right now. I love it. I love my classes and I love that I'm doing something that matters to me, and to other people. My classes are glorious, things I'm interested in, and I'm at the point where I can actually know what people are talking about. I'm not a confused little freshman anymore- I'm a confident junior! Of course, the second I step in a math class, that will change.

I've noticed my personality has changed a lot from last semester. I can talk to people, and often do. I don't shrink in the corner. I ask questions and can make jokes pretty easily. It's tough, but I'm getting more outgoing, I think because I'm hiding a lot less than I've ever hidden before.

Next post will be an observance of dykes in the classroom!