queerFAQtor wednesday

queerFAQtor wednesday
a day in the life...
aka: ashley got green muslin this weekend, fun ensues.



can't a girl just sit alone in her room and play with chroma key settings for hours on end and not be referred to as a social recluse? until that day comes, i'll keep on dreaming.

butches and boobs; flatties and femmes

butches and boobs
flatties and femmes

i walked towards the end of the hall, unsure of what i might find. she had kept herself sequestered up in that room for what seemed like hours. cautiously, i opened the door just a crack and peeked in. i then delicately tiptoed over the well worn ace bandages, paying close attention to the strips of duct tape littered across the floor that were itching to bond themselves to the bottoms of my socked feet.

there she was, sitting cross legged. staring blankly at herself in the mirror with her hands clenching her breasts. "i hate them...what purpose do they serve aside from being the begin of my existence?" she had been trying for hours to turn her D-cups into flat, firm, pecs and the process wasn't going as sleekly as she had hoped.

"they are so big and cumbersome. i'm sick of people seeing these on my chest and feeling as if that gives them license to treat me as less than a person. i want a blank canvas, i want to not be identified by my appearance but with these two mountains in the way- it's proving to be a quite challenging."

large breasts are literal mountains for some women. in addition to being painful to carry around, many women have said tig ol' bitties are demonstrative to their appearance- and distracts people from other, more substantial features. top heavy women have cried for years, "they are just plain annoying!"

now before you think i'm encouraging you to raise up your sharpest cheese graters in a rack rebellion, i implore you to flip to the other side of the coin, my side to be exact. my girlfriend was blessed when the mammary fairy sat down on her chest and unleashed a perfect pile of titastic goodness. i, however, have a different cross to bear.

math, first day of middle school...intensely chewing on my pen cap, hyper anxious and active 7th grade me was alarmed when tapped on the shoulder by a classmate. "hey bp, can i borrow your TI-83?" he asked with a coy smile. never one to turn down a new friend, i disregarded the fact that none of names, first- middle- or last- contained a 'b' or 'p', and i passed him my calculator. as the year pressed on more and more boys from my classes began to snicker when they would call out to me, "BP! BP! BP! haha- hey ashley." even as a young kid i was ok laughing at myself, but i was totally out of the loop on this one. what was funny about a few letters?

as summer began to extend our days, yearbooks were passed out and i gave it to my friends to sign. a few of the boys who regularly called me 'bp' referenced me as such in my yearbook, but one was so bold as to write simply, 'baby bottle pop'.

"what the heck does that mean, bozo?" i asked tentatively (prior to finding out how fabulous curse words can feel when tumbling out of your mouth when mad/offended/incensed). "your boobs. they look like the tops of babybottle pops." my jaw unhinged and dropped to the floor. "oh com'on ashley don't act like you don't know...even MY boobs are bigger than yours, and i'm a dude." i was devastated- not because they had been making fun of me for the latter part of the year to my face without my knowledge. not because they were talking about my breasts whilst sitting behind me in math, day in and day out. but because i had been the last to hear the punchline. in middle school, as you will remember, it's all about fitting in and being the last to 'get' a joke was more painful than being the butt of it.

fact: the lumps of fat that sit atop my ribcage are humble in size- this isn't something new or shocking to me. making fun of me for it in attempts to hurt me is futile, i've owned and accepted my tiny titty fate from an early age. plus, lets see a chick with natural D-cups run sans a bra- her shit will be so far up her throat after the first stride...while us little lumpers can do handstands without a bra and no one's the wiser.

when i crossed the threshold of high school and saw the myriad of perky, bouncy full breasts around me, i knew i was put on this earth to stare at them. it's almost a blessing that i have not been graced (or afflicted, depending on your stance) with actual boobs...could you even imagine?! i would never leave the house!

living with all women, it isn't uncommon for breasts to come up casually in conversation. my girlfriend and both of my roommates have substantial sized twins living beneath their shoulders, i'm the only one in the house with lil' ladies chillin' on my chest. one of my roommates is even considering breast reduction surgery to lighten her load. when she mentioned that to me, it begat the following line of thinking-

the rolling stones taught us that you can't always get what you want, but why is it that butch chicks always seem to have glorious, full, fun bags that they try desperately to hide, or suppress- and then theses flat little femmes are shoving handfuls of synthetic gel pads into our shirts in attempts to appear more ample?

it would be too easy to turn this post into a self-loving, boob-fest, full of verbiage such as, 'love yourself', and 'every body is a beautiful body'. instead i choose to prance down a different path. i say to my lady friends- bind away butches! pout proudly, my femmes! am i supporting self loathing? of course not, but if you are unhappy with your breast size and sleep with women, i have a little secret to share with you...what you lack, they could posses. if you want bigger boobs in your life...you can go out there and find them! you would be shocked at how many people are down to share 'em- big or small.

it's a funny twist of fate these butches with boobs, and femmes who are flat...but the world wouldn't be nearly as dynamic, inspiring, and enlightening if we all were born into our 'ideal form' and as the dalai lama once said, "remember that not getting what you want is sometimes a wonderful stroke of luck."

miss nice guy

miss nice guy *
*which is gender neutralization of a generally gender charged word
because i've learned some are easily offended-
and you know i like to keep you happy.

everyone has got each other figured out lately. i mean, that must be the case considering people have no issue telling others how to fix their lives. i'm all about growth- i'm all for hearing new ideas and implementing them into my life if i feel it's appropriate to do so. i think it's important for every one of us to swallow our pride sometimes and admit that we have lessons to learn from each other. just because someone challenges who you are, doesn't mean they are attacking you- often times, they are simply trying to help you.

as of late i've tried to really listen to the advice people around me are giving. i took a break from writing and simply observed. when asked how i could improve my life, i heard an endless array of answers from "never wear your silver metallic fanny-pack out in public ever again" (pfft, yah right) to "stop being that girl who doesn't pick up the phone, but will immediately text you back saying 'hey, what's up'". (to defend myself, my phone is always on silent due to work, so i might not have heard it ring. now, if i did feel it vibrating and chose to text you afterwards versus picking up the phone- don't be so salty my little cup of fruit, i still want to interact with you. i just genuinely don't enjoy talking on the phone...just add it to the list of borderline socially reclusive traits that i posses.)

what i heard time and time again had to do with my attitude: "stop being so damn nice"; "get your head out of the clouds"; "stop wearing rose-colored glasses"; "don't allow people to push you around"; "you need to wise up to the world, jive turkey." ok, no one called me jive turkey...but the point expressed was clear- in order to be more successful in life, one shouldn't be so nice.

i fought the urge to feel as if people were questioning who i am fundamentally and admitted that there have been times that my optimistic disposition has led me to some social challenges. 'social challenges' is the term i use to classify the bullshit i've been through with people. it has a nicer ring than, 'fuckin dramatic bullshit', don't you think? i've walked into situations that, in hindsight, i knew were doomed from the get go. i've been burned, i've hurt people, i've been mistreated, i've taken people for granted, but never once have i allowed any of that to make me jaded.

that would be the biggest disappointment, were i ever to become hardened and jaded. i've made it through life this long without falling into the cynical cycle of assuming the worst at ever bend, i would hate to think i could reasonably go through life thinking everyone was an ass. however, an even greater disappointment would be to dismiss valid advice.

to my cynical sisters: i'll admit, you are right- being nice doesn't always get you further in life. my friendly ways have caused me to hold onto things that i should have let go; it has caused me to place trust in people who have thrown it and my emotions into the trash; i've stood steadfast behind those who were nowhere to be found when i needed them most. in the workworld my authentic nature has given those who are threatened by me the false notion that i am easily pushed aside. in the past, i've been written off as 'a sweet girl who does what she's asked', when in actuality i'm trying to be the best worker i can be. simply put, being nice opens you up to being burned.

while being trusting and believing in the goodness of people can come back to bite you in the ass, it can also expand your horizons and introduce you to new world. i'll tread lightly and cautiously on this earth while i'm here, but i won't allow my past or anyone else's mar the beauty of today. i'm a bit more cautious with who i trust, but to change who i am intrinsically and become anything other than a friendly, genuine, sassball of sunshine just isn't in me and i'm ok with being miss nice guy...

queerFAQtor wednesday

queerFAQtor wednesday
lbgt challenges with apacowayner

good lord i love lawn gnomes...

queerFAQtor wednesday

queerFAQtor wednesday
coming out, an interpretive dance

anyone can tell you their coming out story...not everyone will do it whilst wearing a neon yellow bathing suit and coordinating lime green stretch pants.
i aim to please.

"you have an AIDs face"

"you have an AIDs face"
and other charming thoughts...

"never take your looks seriously," is what a friend told me not to long ago. "your mind, body and soul will be better off for it." the enormity of his words didn't hit me until an aesthetic army has jumped down my throat in the past few years. it's easy to ignore how stimulated our world is visually, it's even easier to skirt the issue of how people treat others as a result of simply what they see.

'gender knows no lines' is more to me than just a queer ideology, it's also how i've approached friendships throughout my life. it also happens to be how i befriended so many boys in life....not that i saw myself as one, friendships just seemed to grow easier with them.

in elementary school, the girls who played jump rope at recess didn't like that i was the only girl allowed in the underground playground with all the boys- so, rationally, they went and told the teacher i needed to be impeached as 6th grade class president because i was in an underground strip club. that prompted a fun and uncomfortable 'sit-down' chat with my teacher and a guidance counselor on 'healthy love'...it took me an hour to finally convince them the girls really just didn't like me- and i had no idea about any playground strip club.

in college, i was coming out and incredibly intimidated of women. i stuck close with my guy friends... admittedly, most of them were gay- but it still counts. after college i have been surrounded by men, as the world is made of roughly half of them. conversation flows easily, and one basic interest is always shared with my heteromale counterparts- our love of women.

for the most part, my relationships with men after coming out have been pretty smooth. although, i've had one or two who do not seem to grasp the concept of 'gay'. they fail to understand that one of the more basic ideas in lesbianism is that of only sleeping with women. one friend went so far as to offer to drive me home one night with the sole intention of a heart to heart talk on why i shouldn't be gay, and we should have sex. not only, 'ashley let me undermine something that is fundamental inside of you, and you couldn't change if you wanted to', but also, 'let's have sex'. charming.

yet, as i mentioned- most of my relationships with men have been fine. we often fall into extremely sarcastic banter and throw witty zingers back and forth. it's not uncommon for my self deprecating humor to open the door for an all-out 'ashley roast' by my guy friends. never taking oneself too seriously is a mantra i believe, and generally speaking i'm able to weave it into the fabric of my life with no problem. if i can dish it out, i should have broad enough shoulders to take it.

the other day a guy friend of mine was busting my inverted balls for not hitting him up over the weekend. after he hit me with a few good lines he closed with, "you have an AIDs-face". i'll give him points for originality, but after our conversation i was left wondering, am i being too sensitive or was this guy being a real dick?

i shrugged it off as a fleeting comment, there is no sense in over analyzing other peoples words. maybe he thought it was hilarious...maybe i do have a bit of a gaunt, long, paler than most face...whatever the case may be it's small beans and not worth space in my brain.

after i got over it, i mentioned the conversation to my girlfriend. "i don't like that guy, who does he think he is?! he's only an asshole because he wants to sleep with you and can't". i hate that the first conclusion she always jumps to when anyone interacts with me is 'they want to sleep with you', but i hated more that this time she was actually right. this guy was a pseudo-lesbro, (not to be confused with an actual lesbro). pseudo-lesbro's appear harmless enough, but at the end of the day they would gladly smash if given the chance.

whatever his intentions, 'you have an AIDs face' hit me particularly hard. i know i have high cheekbones that could place me in the cast of philidelphia, but the 1 in 20 people in washington d.c. who have AIDs probably wouldn't have chuckled either. my friends words from the past helped me to remain sane..."never take your looks seriously- your mind, body and soul will be better off for it."

it goes two ways, never take your looks for granted and never allow them to bring you down. i might look straight and like i would enjoy verbal sparring that isn't politically correct but i'm gay and don't particularly like offending groups of people. by never taking ones looks seriously, one never relies on them or depends on them to get ahead. one also never wallows in a pit of misery pinning after others looks.

but most of all...ugly people and those with AIDs-faces are cooler and more interesting than the rest of the world- so SUCK ON THAT!

candy, unicorns, and rainbows

candy, unicorns, and rainbows
that's what the world is made of

i believe in the goodness of people. i waltz around southeast D.C. in the dead of night, fearing no one- seeing everyone as just a new friend. i embody the idealistic notion that people are inherently good. i believe that those who act in a negative way are simply acting out of anger and hurt, and thus- just need to be understood. i know all of this about myself and am ok with it. i'd much rather see the world as a good, warm place peppered with some shit versus just a barren, depressive place that we reside until we die. i find it hard to accept hate, fear, pain and negativity unless its slammed in my face.

until recently, i thought that our world was beginning to shift. i thought, 'i can come out, and people from my past will be wholly accepting, and little if anything will change'. my best friend, jill was a prime example of that. she knew of my struggles sexually, and when i came out to her she accepted me. still best friends- no questions asked.

as those from my past slowly began to trickle back into my life due to the oober-connected world of facebook, i thought optimisticly, 'maybe this is the start of a new old friendship. perhaps now older, wiser, and more mature we will be better equipped to interact together. they can meet my girlfriend, we can catch up on each others lives and EVERYTHING WILL BE GREAT!'

then i remembered how uncomfortable i was in high school.
i remembered the things that were done to me by these 'friends'.
i remembered sinking into depression, while desperately turning to them for help with no avail.
i remembered confiding in them, only to have my secrets splattered all over the walls of school.
i remembered living to impress these friends...which, not shockingly, i never did.
i remembered how quickly i was dropped and kicked from their lives after they found out i was a leper, no wait- just gay.

being punched back into reality i realize the quality of my life has gone nowhere but up since these people left my world. i am not desperate for their friendship any more, i don't need that to define me. their words no longer dictate my outfits, moods, hell- even my classes. but is it wrong i feel a sense of loss? not that i want someone in my life, who doesn't value me as i do them- but i wish that i pushed out of their lives on my own terms- not theirs, not like this.

it's not difficult to make the connection of after i came out- the friendships came to a screeching halt. 'come out' sounds so official- like i've made a declaration to them. i've not contacted any of them and 'come out'- i don't even interact with these people anymore. they know i'm gay because people still talk...alot.
i came out- the playful banter stopped.
i came out- the texts of 'lets meet up' stopped.
i came out- the friendships stopped.

i guess because i'm on the inside looking out its easy for me to say: i could never, ever let someone out of my life because they came to a conclusion about their sexual orientation. that's none of my business- and even if i feel it is, it's not as if they have turned into some freak who's going to attempt to feel me up given the chance.
a friend, is a friend, is a friend!

its funny. because i was close enough to tell my friends the feelings of confusion i had in high school...then they assured me everything was alright, it would all work out.
they were right. it is alright- it has all worked out.

*steps up onto soapbox*

but i will say this my friends-
who are we to judge ANY other person?
who am i to tell you what is wrong or right?
the world is subjective.
opinions make the world a beautifully diverse and painful place.
i don't think less of the people who choose to think of me differently because i'm true to myself.
i don't harbor hate, or even think their views are skewed.
personally, i choose to conduct myself in a different way.
and that's all i control.
so if anything, i suppose in my mind all i can do is thank them. thank them for showing me a different view of the world. sure- its a darker more superficial look than i would ever see without their help...but a different angle for sure, and that makes me more well rounded.

so, i've seen the more cynical side, and you know what? fuck being a realist. i will be the optimistic, firm believer in the good until i die!
THE WORLD IS MADE OF CANDY UNICORNS AND RAINBOWS!

queerFAQtor wednesday

BAM! wednesday's with apacowayner
this weeks topic: identity changes

huey lewis makes me wonder

huey lewis makes me wonder
what's the power of love?

when i was young, huey lewis taught me a powerful lesson- it don't take money, it don't take fame, don't need no credit card to ride this train. it’s strong and it’s sudden and it’s cruel sometimes, but it might just save your life. that’s the power of love. as high esteem i hold mr. lewis in, i can't help wonder if love is in fact that powerful.

we all know love takes on many forms; the love between family members, the love one shares with a partner, the unshakable love for close friends. but there is a different form of love that is often swept under the rug by my idealistic minded friends and myself. the downside to love, when love is rooted in something darker and more sinister, i'm speaking of none other than those who love to hate. i'll refrain from using the expression, 'haters', as i think that has an immature 'poppin bottles in da club' vibe to it. i'm talking about those whose passions and beliefs are grounded in anger and hate. those who simply choose to disagree with a lifestyle and those who find others behavior immoral or intrinsically wrong- i have no issue with. you are more than entitled to an opinion, as am i. it's those who get a rise out of upsetting others; those whose goal is to hurt another with their words; it's those people that break my heart.

my love of women is something some people love to hate. i have no issue displaying my HRC decal alongside my 'practice random acts of kindness' bumper sticker as i don't find them particularly offensive (if i can get stuck in bumper to bumper traffic behind a straight guy who proudly displays mock-testicles hanging off his truck hitch, then i really don't see how my politically correct stickers are offensive, but i digress). they have incited rage in some of my traffic neighbors. so much rage in fact, that it has prompted cars to follow me around the beltway flicking me off, shouting expletives, all whilst trying to ram my car. one charming fellow went so far as to follow me for miles sticking his tongue between his fingers and licking in my general direction...right, like you being a douche bag and driving erratically is going to teach me the err of my lesbionic ways.

when it comes to love i refuse to believe that it's all rainbows, unicorns, rays of sunshine, and flowers. anyone who's ever been persecuted has seen how destructive hate can be. don't get me wrong, love is powerful- more powerful than hate, but what do you do with love that's been pickled in hate? how does one combat it, or at least defend oneself against it?

while some would tell you to simply 'kill them', most would suggest the always vague and clichéd, 'kill them with kindness' approach. not a bad approach to take, unless of course the 'them' referred to is a hate filled character who has several feet on you. if that were the case, i'd suggest you just shimmy your way out of the situation asap. others would suggest you ignore those whose goal is to antagonize. the problem i have with that is, ignoring or devaluing other peoples opinions simply because you don't agree, or you deem them unimportant, is a bit presumptuous. because as quickly as you toss out anothers ideas- they could do the same to you. it's all a matter of perspective.

mr. lewis opened his 1985 classic with the thought, the power of love is a curious thing. make a one man weep, make another man sing. indeed it can, huey. for in the same breath that i utter, 'love can be destructive' i also rest assured knowing that an open heart can scale mountains. trite as it might be to say, there is no hate that is stronger than unwavering love and compassion, and that's the power of love.

east coast v west coast

east coast v. west coast

the war wages on

my mother doesn't immediately strike you dead as a ringer for puffy, but trust me...she and sean combs are one in the same. he's a badboy, born and bred reppin' the east; got a mind for business, and a heart heavy from loss. she's an east coast ride-or-die chick, loyal to her 'hood until she's six feet under, and her heart riddled with worry. both have an interesting take on fashion, and both wanted nothing more than their boy to succeed (but in my mothers case, "boy" meant "adorably precocious daughter").

her similarities with sean weren't apparent outright, they crept in slowly. her east coast allegiance surfaced first when i mentioned california as a possible location i was looking into for work. as my dreams of the sun of san francisco kissing my face became more vivid, my mothers voice could be heard more resoundingly- 'seriously ashley, what is out west that you can't have right here? you have a good job and life right now- be patient, don't discredit what you have, where you are, and what you know.' i always retorted something to the affect of, 'i'm not taking anything away from this time and place- but isn't it only natural and right to yearn for more? like a sponge, i want to absorb everything that stimulates me- wakens me- and moves me further in life.'

in the rap game, i consider myself a chip of the ol' snoop block. a dash of awkwardly interesting gangly limbs, a sweet melodic soulful toned voice, a character that does great in the east- but heart's rooted in the west. let's be real, snoop dogg and i are practically twins.
what fuels my love for the parks of san francisco and the wonderment of la? is it the luster and glitter of something new and shiny? the possibility of a whole new world? do i yearn for something that isn't what i have currently? or am i just more of a 'red' girl when it comes to bandanna fashions? i suppose all of those thoughts have crossed my mind before- but the overwhelming reason is simply- the west compells me.

i've been to san francisco one time and it was the only time in my life i've felt physically moved by a place. even though my time spent in the palm of san fran was full of activity and movement, i returned home re-energized, refocused, and reborn. everything became incredibly clear- much like the moment you walk out of the eye doctor with a new pair of perfectly tuned glasses. you see the crispness of the leaves for the first time in forever; they've always been there, but now you see their freckles, their ridges. it is in this moment you can absorb all of the beauty that is around you. or if you are a cynic who doesn't appreciate my poetic description, it's rational benefit is that with eyes more clear, one can more effectively do work.

in the few months after i returned from san francisco, i felt more creative than ever. it was the beginning of the flurry of brain activity that begat lesbifriends, in fact. like fievel and those on the orgeon trail before me (the old school computer game, not the actual migration route- "you have died from dysentery"), i knew that my task- as daunting as it may seem- was to be going- going- back- back- to cali- cali- any way possible. i had to get back west, twas my duty!

i've encountered a cast of characters along the path to finding my way back to my utopia. there have been the big, irrational, dreamers who've shouted seductively, "drop your world and baggage, babygirl. then buy a one-way ticket and never look back". what an attractive line of thinking, however i have a fundamental issue with that. that's poetic; that's the syrupy sweet way they do it in movies and in the beginning of 40% of all intervention episodes. but from a more realistic standpoint, i'm seeing zippy planning and forethought going into that- and while it could and probably has worked for people in the past, my semi-neurotic voice shouts internally, "MAYBE GOOGLE SOMETHING ON THE AREA FIRST, otherwise you could end up huffing computer cleaner and being set up on national television for your intervention. i'm just saying- it could happen." i'm a planner and a goal setter. so while i would love to pack up my bags and leave on a jet plane, i shall instead do my homework- be the best worker i can be- and always keep my eyes open for that door.

dr. dre told us years ago that the "wild, wild west" was a "state that's untouchable like eliot ness", and that's still true today. california is like new york in that way; they sparkle brighter than a million suns to those who are just out of reach. i'm not alone in my quest for the west, there are others like me who crave seeing the sun melt away and being the last to kiss it goodnight. others still ache for new york city; a city, a world, a cornucopia of life. to be saturated in it constantly must be a dynamic and colorful existence. my best friend when consulted on the topic wants me to find myself- lest that leave me, naked and penniless, or half naked and loaded. she's always encouraged me to: do nothing but what makes me happy; never settle for less than what you want and deserve; follow your heart and remain true to who you are. an artist through and through, she follows where her soul tells her to go and moves with its rhythms. dr. dre and her both are sultry forces who harmoniously blend with snoop.

the powerful rap battle that was the mid-80's through early-90's might be over, but the lines are drawn in my world. as much as i want to appease those around me and maintain what i have accomplished, i can't help but push for more. your fears are not mine, so please don't be offended when i sidestep them and forge ahead. dreams aren't meant to start out as 'level-headed' and 'mindful', they are meant to be big, ostentatious, and a bit crazy. but as far as building the bridge to get there, while it may take more time, one should make sure to have a sound structure before throwing all their chips in. the gap between dream and reality isn't that far (you can have that one for free, hallmark), as long as you back it up.

so, am i there yet? no. and i might not be tomorrow, or the next day... but i did dial "3-1-0" for the first time last week, baby steps!

dc same-sex marriage law takes effect

today in our nation's capital, love conquered hate.
congratulations to all the DC newlyweds- we stand united behind you.

queerFAQtor wednesday

queerFAQtor keeps it topical
uganda's anti-gay legislation

while my intentions were to inform the masses, i think i wound up mucking up the waters a bit more...but at least i attempted to explain the human rights issue that's going on in uganda right now.

back off, lesbro!

back off, lesbro!
"the lesbian sneak-and-creep"

it's no secret that lesbians are known for their ability to network. what might initially appear to be a simple social gathering involving lesbians is, in all actuality, a microcosm. you will find a world full of adventures in even the smallest of parties. straight friends, take a journey with me- imagine a world where every club event you go to, every party you attend, every game of pick-up softball you hop into, there is an ex or a former fling (whose name escapes you, but you are almost 100% sure you made out with them at pride last year). imagine social circles that overlap constantly, imagine being privy to every ones drama... whether or not you want to hear it. some call it anarchy- i call it a valid trade off for the overall perfection that is lady loving. bear in mind, this is only a portion of an entire community. using my words to define all lesbians would be wrong- i'm merely testifying my sisters, to the glory that i have seen. the magical mystery of just how creepy lesbians can be, using a technique called, the lesbian sneak-and-creep.

the sneak-and-creep is when an acquaintance or semi-close friend flips through your friend list on various social networking sites, finds your most attractive/closest connections then proceeds to add and creep on them. have you ever noticed one day you have a few mutual friends, then the next day this friend has added your sister, your best friend, your first ex, and all of your roommates? woah- are you all really that well connected? was there a party last night involving all of your nearest and dearest friends, that you were unaware of, hosted by said friend? while i'm sure that they could all know each other, it's a rational possibility- it's just not the case. sad to say, your friend's list has been milked.

my friends and i share similar stories of 'sneak-and-creepers'. back in the mid 2000's, when myspace was still a formidable force in the social networking game, i'm not ashamed to say that i frequently used my account. my sister and i had different myspace default names, so one didn't know outright that we were related. i remember getting creepy messages from 'photographer friends' of hers who would proposition me to shoot with a 'model they had in mind'...her name is corbin, we are friends online. 'corbin' is my sisters modeling name, and while we have done shoots together for photographers who are friends of ours- i'm not doing a sexy shoot with my sister, i don't care how hot she is. with myspace it was understood, there were some serious creeps on that site. but facebook forces our creepy ways into the shadows, we don't have the same anonymity and thus in order to peruse pages you have to get creative.

i think it's important to mention, i have nothing against people who add strangers online in attempts to expand their world- hell, that's the purpose of a SOCIAL NETWORKING SITE- and i would be lying if i said that i haven't started friendships online (meet my beautiful friend jarvis, who i met years ago off facebook. we have seen each other through several relationships and dramatic life situations...and our friendship endures to this day!) but i just felt the need to stress, in regards to sneakin' and creepin'- you aren't as stealthy as you think lesbots, i'm on to you! i know you flip through those mutual connections like none other, adding every semi-gay looking hottie you can...in hopes that one does actually resemble her default photo after you add her and click through her tagged photos.

it's a painfully trivial thing to be upset about, i understand this. i should be focused on the gay tragedy that's going on in uganda right now, i should be focused on the chilean earthquake victims and how i can help, i should be focused on my taxes...but instead i'm making a very vaild point as it pertains to sharing friends online. i'm aware of the ways of our community and it doesn't shock me in the least how we conduct ourselves in this new age of social networking lives and real lives colliding.

it's yet another reason our community is so well connected. we all know each other, or know of each other, or have heard of each other in some form or fashion. when fresh meat walks in the scene, it's little wonder lesbians pounce- it's a shiny new toy to get to know and play with. when circles overlap it's like a feeding frenzy. when the baltimore lesbians come down to play with us DC girls (or vice versa), it's a field day...because while we all are aware of each other, we aren't at the point of supersaturation- in that, we aren't all up 'in each others shit' and thus there is less drama to be had. that is of course, until everyone starts drinking- then the drama will undoubtedly follow.

so as far as some of my acquaintances commandeering my friend list's, adding them all, and getting their 'stalk'-freak on; back off lesbro...these are precious creatures- not slabs of meat! if you really want to be a voyeur and make new friends, do it the old fashioned way- the way our lesbian foremothers would have wanted- decked out in flannel at lilith fair.