Textual Healing.

One of the perks of having gay men as your best friends is that you always have someone to flirt with boys for you, especially in the technological advances of the 21st century. I do so enjoy having a personal Cyrano.

Sometimes the idiom is true -- guys know what guys want. I was amazed at how well the flirty texts were received. I think I may have created a monster, though; last night, I told my friend that Straight Guy had texted me and his response was, "Let him talk for a while and then let me flirt with him for you!"

An Open Letter to Rick Perry

Dear Rick Perry,

Hi. I know that memorizing things is hard work, and sometimes it's easier to just throw out talking points in a series and pretend that it makes sense -- let's face it, that saves you from the embarrassment of not being able to remember your own positions on things, am I right? But gay people serving in the military does not actually keep children from "celebrating Christmas in schools." And I teach in a public high school. Trust me, there is plenty of Christmas -- we even get two weeks vacation for it. Children also learn about the Declaration of Independence in school, where they learn that all men are created equal and are granted by their Creator (even though you have sort of claimed his as your own) certain unalienable Rights, and that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.

And I'm not too sure that you have the direct line to God that you seem to think you did. Despite demanding the people of Texas to pray for rain, there was still statewide drought and wildfires. It almost is as if you're just using Jesus as a way to look holier than thou and pious. Methink thou doth protest too much, you know what I'm saying?

Thanks for making America think even more that Texans are stupid closed-minded assholes. As if Dubya didn't do that sufficiently. Hurry up and lose the primary and fade into obscurity.

Hugs and kisses,
Queer Dear.

Watch Your Language.

Each community comes with its own vocabulary, but often they are words that have different meanings for different groups. Even the word "gay" has a varied sociological history, as my students try to tell me when I get on to them for saying that something is gay. "But miss, I meant happy!" Yeah okay, sure.

A friend had a run-in with linguistic confusion the other day. He was talking to an acquaintance of his about something, and the man said that his "partner" attended an event. My friend thought that it was odd that this man referred to his wife as his partner, but just chocked it up to an eccentric nature, or maybe an attempt to make him feel comfortable and familiar or something.

It wasn't until the next day that he realized that the man was referring to his business partner.

Stand Together

Tonight's episode of Extreme Makeover: Home Edition (or, as one of my friends refers to it, The Cry Show) is about a family who lost their 11 year old child to homophobic bullying in school. The boy's mother, Sirdeaner Walker, has created the Stand Together pledge to stop bullying. Visit the site and stand together with the almost 100,000 people who have pledged to stop bullying of any kind.

A Christmas Miracle

I have a friend that I sometimes think of as a straight guy who likes guys. He loves football and red meat and hates talking about his feelings. He puts on a facade of nonchalance when he's out in public.

But there are times when he surprises me, specifically around Christmas time. He dons him now some gay apparel when it gets close to Christmas. I helped him decorate his house for Christmas, and I swear this man pranced. PRANCED through the house. I'm pretty sure he even giggled on occasion. He also just called me at 6:45 a.m. because the local easy listening radio station is playing Christmas music and he thought that I should know that Kenny Loggins was playing.

It's like having my own personal elf.

Benefits.

I have recently been made aware that I have a friend who has a friend with benefits.

The way he explained it to me was that they ended up drunk in bed one night and things started happening so he just decided to go with it. He went with it for a couple of months.

Has anyone else ever been able to make a "friends with benefits" situation work? Hollywood has made it clear that there are usually some sort of feelings on one or both sides. Can sex be emotionless and just fun?

He said that they eventually broke it off because they wanted to end it before things got complicated. My argument is, how can things not be complicated? Many people are able to separate the act of sex from emotional attachments (I know some people even separate the act of sex from sexual orientation, which is even more baffling), but to me a situation of friends with benefits differs from general promiscuity or an occasional one night stand.

To repeatedly have sex with a person and to not develop feelings for that person is to take all of the feeling out of it. Sex is supposed to be the ultimate expression of love and intimacy with a person, which is why it is so scandalous when people engage in one night stands in the first place. Granted, the friends of benefits situation is safer than the one night stand situation, but still. Why engage in acts of intimacy with a person without being intimate with them? That's what hands are for.

Bloody Mary

The United Kingdom has lifted a lifelong ban on gay men giving blood due to the perceived risk of HIV/AIDS. Men who have not had anal or oral sex with other men in twelve months (a window made to make sure that no infections are undetected in testing) are now able to donate blood in England, Scotland, and Wales.

The ban on blood donation of homosexual men still applies in the United States, but hopefully this move in the UK will cause American health services to re-examine their discriminatory policies. According to the UK research, "the safety of the blood supply would not be affected by the change and we would like to reassure patients receiving transfusions that the blood supply is as safe as it reasonably can be and amongst the safest in the world. There has been no documented transmission of a blood-borne virus in the UK since 2005, with no HIV transmission since 2002."

Giving blood is very important, not just in times of crisis but every day. There is no substitute to blood, so opening up the blood pool and having more blood available to those in need is important. If you've ever been in an accident or had a disease that called for a transfusion, you know how important blood donation is. If you're able, check out where to donate from the American Red Cross.

Going the distance

In September and October, two of my good friends embarked on separate long distance relationships. By the end of October, both of them were over. One of the relationships moved very slowly, with the guys getting to know each other over a period of a few weeks, and the other relationship moved quickly, with them being exclusive and official after a few days.

Long distance relationships baffle me. I have only known one relationship of my friends that has survived long distances. Relationships, especially in the fragile "getting to know you" stage, are very tenuous and distance just adds another stressor. Especially relationships that begin with distance. In both cases, the guys were friends of a friend that they met at a party; the guys had come in from towns one or two hours away.

At the end of the day, I'm happy if my friends are happy, and they were happy, especially on the weekends when they got together with their guys. I just hope that next time, they can be happy without having to drive for two hours or rack up an enormous text messaging bill.

The Final Frontier.

Zachary Quinto, known as Spock in the Star Trek movie, Sylar in Hereos, and for his amazing eyebrows, has come out as a gay man. He credits the recent death of Jamey Rodemeyer as the catalyst to his public acknowledgment of his life as a gay man.

As Quinto puts it, "in light of Jamey's death - it became clear to me in an instant that living a gay life without publicly acknowledging it - is simply not enough to make any significant contribution to the immense work that lies ahead on the road to complete equality. Our society needs to recognize the unstoppable momentum toward unequivocal civil equality for every gay lesbian bisexual and transgendered citizen of this country."

Since his casual announcement (he referred to himself in an interview as a gay man and then made the statement on his website), every news source has been buzzing with his announcement. He himself has stated that he didn't know it would be global news. Hopefully we'll get to a place when someone's sexuality isn't cause for headlines, but until then, I'm glad that his announcement is being met with positive reactions -- too often, an announcement like that is met with antagonism.

I've had a crush on Zachary Quinto since his evil Sylar days, and his homosexuality is not going to put a stop to that. It's the eyebrows, really. I'm a sucker for a good set of eyebrows.

Coming Out Day.

Today is National Coming Out Day, a day for support and awareness for those who are out or are coming out as gay, lesbian, bisexual, or transgendered. It is also observed to celebrate coming out and used to raise awareness for LGBT issues.

I am a very strong supporter of coming out -- you can't live your life to the fullest if you're hiding part of yourself away from the world and pretending to be something you're not. However, I am not a supporter of outing others. Deciding to come out is a very personal and emotional decision, and it is no one's job to out someone else (here's looking at you, Perez Hilton).

One of my close friends is the secretary for an assistant principal at a local high school and she was telling me about a boy who had been called into the office to be disciplined for being drunk at a football game. The student had always been a good kid and this was his first offense of any kind. It turns out that the student had been dating an openly gay boy on the sly, and when the relationship ended, the open student told everyone that the student was gay. He was miserable, because that's not how he chose to come out.

It was no one's right to out anyone but themselves, and shame on anyone who says that they're "helping" by forcing people to come out. As our society evolves and it becomes less dangerous to be openly gay, I hope that everyone will be able to embrace themselves fully and be open with the people in their lives. But as long as people are being fired for being gay or being bullied in school for being gay, people have legitimate reasons for remaining closeted. Some people have emotional reasons, such as unaccepting parents, that keep them in the closet. There are a depressingly large number of homeless LGBT youth because they were thrown out of the house by their parents when they came out. Staying in the closet is their right, whether you agree with it or not.

After all, not everyone has Cher or Barbra as parents. If only.

Ladies Night

It is absolutely amazing to me how many lesbians are attending my school.

I guess it isn't amazing that there are so many, but it's amazing that they are so open. There are girls walking down the hallways holding hands, cuddling in the cafeteria, and wearing shirts and accessories proclaiming that they love boobies. So far, I haven't seen or heard anything derogatory towards these ladies. Probably because a lot of them look like if you say something to them, they'll punch you in the face.

What is it that is different between gay men and gay women? Why is there such a stigma against gay men but nothing against lesbians? Are straight guys really that into watching lesbians make out?

It baffles the mind. Part of me thinks that society is a bit to blame, with the media portrayal of the sexy lesbian and the effeminate gay man. It's completely acceptable for a straight man to be excited and turned on by sexy women kissing each other, where it is the masculine thing to do to insult and hurt sexy men kissing each other. Is that the reason for the seeming acceptance of gay teenage girls versus boys? Of course, these are the same straight teenage boys who draw penises on every surface that stands still for five seconds and giggle about fart and "that's what she said" jokes, so I may be giving them more credit than they're due.

Perhaps it's just that Beyonce is right, and girls do truly run the world.

No Strings Attached

Well. Now I have done it.

Long story short -- two of my friends (we'll call them A and B for brevity's sake) were going to attend the out of state wedding of a college friend of B. B had said at a dinner (that A was not attending), "I really wish that I could have a college boy weekend without A." A few weeks later, A said to me, "I don't really feel like going out of state and hanging with B's frat boy friends."

And an evil Geppetto complex was born.

"If only they knew!" I thought to myself. "If only they would talk to each other, they'd realize they have the same ideas!"

So I tried to make little hints and suggestions about, "oh, you never know, he may understand if you don't want to go," and "you don't know, maybe he doesn't want to go, you should talk to him."

They talked to each other, figured it out, and all was right with the world.

Until. They talked to each other, discovered my evil Geppetto complex, and I got called the hell out for my secrets and lies.

It turns out people don't like being a personal Pinocchio. And they especially don't like when they try to have a heart-to-heart talk with each other and the other person already knows what they're going to say.....because they heard it from me.

I then tried to make a joke about it with A (via text.....WILL I NEVER LEARN), and it was waaaay too soon for that. I got put in my place yet again. My place a few spaces below people who use bad grammar and don't use their turn signals in heavy traffic.

So I am properly A, embarrassed that I was so thoroughly busted, and B, genuinely apologetic and contrite that I betrayed their respective confidences. I honestly was trying to help, but all I did was make an awful mess of things. From now on, my hair will remain big because it is full of secrets that I will not be telling.

But for now, I feel like I wore sweatpants on Monday.

Transamerica

I have never been a fan of Dancing with the Stars. I always felt that the word "stars" was used very loosely and if I wanted to see good dancing, I'd watch So You Think You Can Dance.

However, I'm watching this season. Not just to see Nancy Grace's wardrobe malfunction, but for the appearance of Carson Kressley and Chaz Bono.

There has been a lot of rumblings, both positive and negative, about the inclusion of Chaz Bono. Chaz, if anyone has been avoiding any and all forms of media, is transgender, meaning that he was born female and transitioned to male. More importantly, he was born Chastity Bono, the daughter of Cher and Sonny Bono. Chaz has written a book and made a documentary on Oprah's OWN Channel chronicling his journey from female to male.

Transgender is a very confusing and puzzling topic for most people. It's very misunderstood in our society and, as with most things that people don't understand, feared to the point of revulsion and hatred. Gender identity and gender dysphoria are real issues -- it's not a matter of being "tomboyish" or "girly", it's a matter of being comfortable in your body and knowing who you truly are. In a society that espouses that "beauty is only skin deep" and that "it's not what you look like but who are are on the inside that counts," there is a lot of prejudice to those who say that inside a female body is a male identity.

Gender identity issues have been discovered in children as young as three, according to a CNN article that follows two children and their struggle for the proper identity. Those stories to me are the most fascinating -- I took a language and gender class in college and learned the difference between "sex" and "gender." The fact that these children know themselves so well and are willing to fight for it is so amazing. They should be applauded and not persecuted.

Glitter and be gay.

I got a new job recently. I went from teaching at an alternative high school to a traditional campus. So far I have been there for a month and I love it. It is very refreshing to have students who have more going on in their lives than pot.

One of my students in my first period class is cute as a button. He's a freshman and he has an adorable baby face that is fond of wearing Glee t-shirts and scarves. He also apparently makes several trips to the powder room during the day, because by the time I see him in the halls at the end of the day, he has added enough glitter to his face to choke a drag queen.

The first time I saw him all glitzy, I was sure it was just a trick of the light. But upon further inspection, no.....that was definitely glitter eyeshadow. The next day, I stopped by his locker to say hi, and when he looked up, he had green glitter lipstick on. We are talking full-on Priscilla, Queen of the Desert. And Hallways.

One of my less exciting duties at my new job is coaching. As I was walking back from the gym one day, I passed the PE coach's office. There was a snickering crowd of boys around and that is never a good sign. There was a distinct yelling sound and, ever the eavesdropper, I paused in my journey back to civilization to listen.

"What are you.....get out of here looking like that! Get! What is that on your face, get out!"

Sure enough, my little Glitter Boy exited the office with glitter on his eyelids and jewels on his lips. How he got jewels to stick to his lips, I still don't know, but that is not the point.

He had gone into the office because he lost his gym locker combination. I told him that he looked fine and that he could come to my room if anyone ever talked to him like that, even an adult, because that is not okay.

I can't believe an adult, one who is dedicated to educating children, had that audacity to speak to a student like that. He is a freshman in high school. That boy is fourteen and you're belittling him? And in front of other students? I don't kick out athletes when they're wearing football jerseys, so how dare you target him?

The day after Don't Ask Don't Tell was repealed, making it possible for gay men and women to serve openly in our military, a 14 year old committed suicide after being bullied at school. He had even participated in a "It Gets Better" video, but in the end, the bullying was overwhelming.

So shine on, my little Glitter Boys. We'll be here for you. My door is always open. Unless I'm coaching, in which case the gym door will be open and I'll be the one trying to avoid sweating.

The Not-so-Gay Panic.

Boys, boy, boys. When will you learn that you can keep nothing from me? The truth always comes out in the end. Take this conversation, for example:

Him: I just didn't get that much sleep last night.

Me: Oh, why not?

Him: I sort of had a panic attack.

Me: What!? What happened, what about?

Him: Oh......nothing.

Me: .......................I'm sorry, what?

It turns out that his neighbors had a party while He was imbibing just as heartily as the miscreants next door. The cops came to shut the neighbor's party down and He thought that he was being busted as well. When someone knocked on the door, He ran to the bathroom and spent an hour and a half pretending to take a shower. An hour and a half.

Nothing, my Aunt Fanny.

Not My Type.

It is a truth universally acknowledged that stereotypes are bad. Don't judge a book by a cover, walk a mile in someone's shoes, the whole shebang. We have all been told not to stereotype people, but get to know someone before passing that judgement.

That's all well and good but it doesn't stop anyone from doing it. In the immortal words of Avenue Q, "everyone's a little bit racist." And everyone stereotypes, we just don't like to admit it. We all want to be that one person who rivals Mother Teresa's humanity and kindness, but instead we're the person wondering whether the co-worker with seven kids is Catholic or just careless.

It is very easy to stereotype gay people. "All gay men are fans of Judy Garland," "all lesbians play softball." I'm guilty of it, too.

Recently I went over to a friend's house and he was in a state of extreme agitation. His TV service provider wasn't showing the football game of his favorite team and he was threatening to cancel the cable right then and there if it wasn't rectified.

"It's okay, we can watch Project Runway instead," was my attempt to soothe the savage beast.

"I don't want to watch Project Runway. I want to watch football!"

I'm sorry......what? Who are you and what have you done with my gay?!

The common misconception of gay men is that they are secretly fancy ladies who want nothing more than to gossip about people's outfits and drink cosmopolitans with their pinkies in the air. That is simply only half true. Gay men are just that -- men. They fix cars, they watch football, they eat copious amounts of grilled meats, they talk openly about bathroom activities but not so openly about their feelings, and they scratch themselves. That's just the nature of the testosterone-ridden beast. Their sexuality unfortunately doesn't change their chromosomal make-up.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have to watch Project Runway alone now. My gays watched it without me last night, the bitches.

Reasons You Will Love "True Blood"

True Blood is a show on HBO that involves vampires and the people who love them. It started airing in 2008 and is loosely based on a series of books by Charlaine Harris.

Reason 1
The men. And the women. As the show is aired on HBO, there are a number of naked people running around, usually having sex, sometimes having orgies (which aren't as exciting as you'd think, unfortunately).











You're welcome.

Reason Two

The vampires on True Blood have recently "come out of the coffin" and are being met with hate and intolerance. The parallels between the vampires and homosexuals are thinly veiled at best. There are hate crimes against vampires, there is a Vampire Rights League trying to fight to get vampires rights in America, there is a religious group that is openly preaching against vampires. There is a lot of talk about how vampires are no different from others, that they can't help being the way that they are -- they're born this way, if you will.

Reason Three

The fierce factor. It's worth sitting through an hour of True Blood just to see what the rapier tongues of Pam and Lafayette will say. They are particular favorites of mine.

Reason Four

This season (Season 4 if you're curious), the action has been fast forwarded a year through a mildly lame plot point. The character of Tara, who has left town and assumed a new identity to escape her former life, is living with and involved in a relationship with a woman. This fact is not treated as a big deal, just with acceptance that this is the person that she's happy and feels safe with. I liked that there wasn't a huge "TARA IS NOW A LESBIAN" speech and also that it wasn't treated as a one time fling. In fact, one of the more real moments of the show happened when Tara sends Naomi away in order to protect her and then sobs in the empty parking lot. It was very touching and very real, as the friend I was watching the show with brought up that he had cried like that over a guy before.

Reason Five

The theme song. Just listening to it makes me feel sexy.



Reason Six
In Season 3, the King of Mississippi is introduced, as well as his partner, Talbot. They have been married for 700 years. If that isn't proof that gay marriage can work, I don't know what is.

Roy G. Biv

I enjoy a good piece of trivia just as much as the next person. Maybe a tad more. I tend to monopolize the trivia table at Dave and Busters (I once won a friend of mine a food processor with the tickets I earned playing trivia) and I never turn down a game of Trivia Pursuit. When Ken Jennings was on his winning streak on Jeopardy, I watched it with a bag of popcorn.

I follow the Mental Floss blog on Twitter, and was pleasantly surprised to see them featuring an article about the origins of the rainbow flag being used a symbol for gay rights. It is an interesting read, and it made me wish that rainbow flag still included hot pink and turquoise. I would definitely let that flag fly.

Do as I say, not as I do.

Nothing is more frustrating than a smart-ass gay.

Sure, we like a good snarky gay in the movies as our comedic relief. A little sass never hurt anyone. But trust me, when that sass is being used against you, it stings. It does not hurt so good. There's nothing I hate more than something I've said getting thrown back in my face.

I was leaving a friend's house last week after an amiable get together. I had gone around and said my goodbyes and doled out my cheek-kisses and hugs and random ass grabs. As I headed toward the door, I paused to say goodbye to the last guy.

"Okay, bye," he said as he walked across the living room, "text me when you get home."

I'm sorry, exCUSE ME?! Where is my air-kiss, sir?! After all we've been through, I deserve at least an air-kiss!

I held on to this slight for a good twenty minutes, but then I got over it. However, I made sure to tell him exactly the social niceties that he turned his back and walked away from. Sort of a, "no big deal, but never do it again if you want your life to remain un-nagged" situation.

A few nights later, I was at his house again. We had been watching a movie and he was falling asleep on the couch. After the movie, he went in and laid down on his bed. A few minutes later, I decided to leave and I went in and stood awkwardly by his bed.

"Okay, well.....bye," I said, and turned to leave.

"Don't....walk away....when you're saying goodbye to me," he mumbled.

Touche, jerk.

The Pink Triangle

The last known gay Holocaust survivor, Rudolf Brazda, died Wednesday, August 3. He was sent to Buchenwald in 1942 and remained there until its liberation in 1945.

The homosexuals persecuted by the Nazi regime are often overlooked in the remembrances of the Holocaust. It is estimated that between 50,000 and 65,000 men were convicted of homosexuality with an estimated 10,000 to 15,000 gay men deported to concentration camps (lesbians were not widely persecuted under Nazi anti-gay laws, as it was considered easier to persuade or force them to comply with accepted heterosexual behavior). Few survived, as they were subjected to persecution and abuse not only from the guards but from fellow prisoners -- many of the men didn't die from the gas chambers or work camps but were beaten to death. They were also subjected to experiments from Nazi doctors trying to identify and eliminate the "gay gene" in order to prevent homosexuality in Aryan children, and guards used gay prisoners for target practice, aiming for and shooting through the pink triangle worn on their clothing.

After the war, when the camps were liberated, many of the gay prisoners continued to be persecuted and imprisoned, as homosexuality was illegal (the homosexuality law enforced by Nazi Germany wasn't repealed until 1994). Remembrances of homosexual Holocaust survivors weren't explored or acknowledged until the 1970s, though there are now memorials in several countries, in 2002, the German government apologized to the gay community, and in 2005, the European Parliament adopted a resolution on the Holocaust which included the persecution of homosexuals.

Rudolf Brazda was 98 years old when he passed away in his sleep. He is joining his partner, Edouard Mayer, who passed away in 2003. I hope that he is able to find peace and love to make up for the horrors he faced for simply being himself.

Wide World of Sports

I recently got a new job at a new school district. The only catch is, I have to be a girls basketball assistant coach.

You can feel free to laugh. I'll wait.

As an English teacher, I feel as though I'm already at an athletic disadvantage. We literature types tend to stick closer to the library than the gymnasium. But I'm sure I can motivate those girls to score those goals. Or whatever it is, I'll figure that out later.

I tried to think back on sports movies that I could get coaching tips from, and the first thing that came to my mind was this scene from Ladybugs, one of my favorite movies when I was a kid. It stars Rodney Dangerfield and Jonathan Brandis as his stepson who is coerced into crossdressing to play on a girls soccer team that needs all the help they can get. (I'm telling you, my life as a queer dear was predetermined. I was born this way.)




You can rest assured that should anyone break a nail on the field, I will know what to do.

Live every week like it's Shark Week.

I think this conversation pretty much sums up Shark Week:

Him: Oh my god, a Shark Week commercial just came on and B____ went "yeeeeeaaaaahhhhh!!!!" in a really deep voice.

Me: Shark Week brings out the straight man in us all.

Shark Week is this week, a week where you can watch sharks maul the shit out of adorable baby seals and bleach-blonde surfers until your eyes bleed. The shows that will forever keep me out of the ocean that played tonight were "Great White Invasion" and "Jaws Comes Home", both about great white sharks being found cavorting feet from the beach. Again, the saltwater pool in my parents' backyard is now the closest to the ocean that I'm going to get.

Enjoy Shark Week responsibly. We watched it tonight with a plate of red meat and a bottle of red wine nearby. And then we watched Lady Gaga's HBO Monster's Ball special. Show me your teeth, indeed.

NOLA.

I just got back from a vacation to New Orleans with two of my boys, who from here on out will be referred to as Tiger and Honeybee. They know why.

I had never been to New Orleans and was very excited to go. Tiger is from there, so he was able to navigate his way without a GPS, which is just mindblowing in this day and age. I need a GPS to find my way to the grocery store on some days. He also knew a lot of the history of buildings and had personal anecdotes about different places, which was interesting to hear. There were also restaurants and sights that he and Honeybee had been to on different trips there. I always like having an insider's perspective to make me feel like less of a tourist, even though I cancel it out by taking my picture with anything that will stand still, which in this case included a giant stuffed crawfish.

We drove the six hours to New Orleans and surprisingly no one died (though there was a sketchy moment in a gas station bathroom that I think doubles as a meth lab. It was so nasty that I demanded to be taken to a different gas station). When we got to the hotel on the first night, we walked around the French Quarter for a while and saw the sights, which included a place that had bottomless bloody marys. That night, after my hair was appropriately tamed (humidity is not my friend), we went out to Bourbon Street. Our hotel was right on the corner of Bourbon and Canal, which proved convenient when it came time to stagger home. We took advantage of New Orleans' lack of open container laws. It was amazing to see people drinking while they walked down the street. I kept glancing around nervously as I drank my daiquiri like I was on the lam.

I also had super sexy shoes that night that I was wearing for the first time, and as a result for the rest of the trip it looked like I had dangled my ankles in the ocean during Shark Week. Luckily, I couldn't feel it as it was happening. Thank you, Pat O's hurricanes.

We spent a lot of time walking around the French Quarter, marveling at the architecture and people watching. There was some prime people watching in New Orleans. One of our favorite street games was "gay man or hipster?" It's really hard to differentiate.

On Wednesday, we went on a swamp tour with the most insane man I have ever laid eyes on. To begin with, I could only understand about half of what this guy said through his accent. And then the crazy bitch started trying to grab alligators out of the water and bring them into the boat. And I sort of pulled a diva fit on him. His response was to ask Tiger if I was his wife to try to get him to calm me down, which got a good laugh.

We also went on a vampire tour of New Orleans on Wednesday, which was a walking tour of the French Quarter with stories about movie vampires and vampire-esque crimes in the city. We were blessed to have on our tour a girl who was like the vampire Rainman -- after every real-life story the guide would tell, the girl would burst out, "VAMPIRE. DEFINITELY A VAMPIRE, DEFINITELY." It was annoying. Definitely annoying.

The night, Honeybee stayed at the hotel to recuperate after the stress of the swamp and the vampires, and Tiger and I went out to the Bourbon Pub, which was having an amateur drag contest. Let's be honest, nothing gets me to a bar faster than the words "amateur drag contest." It was so, so tragic. I saw more pantyhosed crotch on that stage than I've seen in my entire life. There was one girl, Carmen, who could not keep her clothes on to save her life. I'm pretty sure that you could have superglued her top to her skin and it still would have fallen down to her waist.

I wish I could remember more of Wednesday night, but after seeing Carmen's skirt bunch up around her waist more than once, we started drinking heavily and the rest of the night is sort of a blur. Thank god. We made friends with one of the drag contest judges (meaning that we stood by him and made snarky comments that made him laugh), so he gave us free drink tickets. I do remember that there were showtunes playing downstairs in the bar. I'm pretty sure that we sang Time of My Life and that it was awesome, as per usual. Karaoke, here we come. I also woke up the next morning to some lovely text messages from some of boys at home, as I had texted them god knows what the night before. It's just my way of paying it forward.

Overall, it was a wonderful trip. I only felt slightly third wheel-ish and awkward; they made sure that everything on the itinerary was something fun for me to see, even though they had done it before, we got in some good quality Oprah talks about our feelings, and the PDA-levels were kept to a minimum on all counts -- during the vampire tour, I had my arms around Honeybee's neck and kissed his cheek, and he turned his head ever so slightly and muttered, "Will you stop that? People are going to think I'm straight." And you know we can't have that.

Sister Christian.

A good friend of mine from the musical I'm in this summer accidentally let slip that one of the cast members mentioned me in passing in a conversation. Apparently this girl felt that she knew me well enough to make the observation that I "am not a Christian," so you know that every time I see her from now on, this is what I see:




Bless you, God Warrior.

Sister Christian also found it her place to question the lifestyle of two of my friends in the cast, who are gay.

See, now we have a problem.

People have their opinions. That's fine. Yours just happen to be stuck in the Spanish Inquisition. Also fine. It might come as a surprise, but I was raised in the Catholic church, so I get it. But don't come around acting like we're buddies when you not-so secretly disapprove of me and my friends. And don't try to act like a godly Christian woman while you're spouting your hate speech. Because guess what, I can read the Bible, too. Matthew 7:1-2 states "Judge not, that ye be not judged. For with what judgment ye judge, ye shall be judged: and with what measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you again." You just got KJVed.

Also, if you disapprove of gays so much, STOP DOING MUSICAL THEATER. That's like going to a pet store when you're allergic to animals.

Couples

This summer, I have embarked on a new journey in my path of queer dear-dom : I have befriended a couple.

It's shocking to me that this is my first gay couple, but most of my friends have relationships that expire faster than a carton of milk, whether of their fault or not. These guys have been together for two years and are living together. They have dog children together. They are legit.

As always, with the new acquisition of friends comes new challenges. For example, there's the third wheel danger. Nobody wants to be the awkward creeper in the corner during a romantic moment. For example, just recently we had a pool day, the two of them and me. I was in the pool with one of the guys while the other was lying in a pool chair. When he was getting in the water, he asked how the water was and homeboy answered, "it's good now that you're in here." Awkward City, population me.

There's also the package problem. And not the good type of package, oh no. The package deal problem. I'll make plans with one of them, and they'll both show up. Typically this is not a problem, as I love both of them and we always have a blasty blast. It is a little difficult when trying to get to know them, however. I enjoy one on one time with my friends; I find that it helps bonding and fostering deep relationships. It's close to impossible to have one on one time with three people. Try it sometime.

Like all couples, they fight and make up. Sometimes their arguments make me uncomfortable. The making up makes me even more uncomfortable. There are times when we'll be at their house hanging out with one of them in the living room with me and the other in their bedroom. Sooner or later, they'll both be in the bedroom. In which case, I am overcome by awkwardness. Is the party moving in there? Is it a pants party? Unless there is an invitation on monogrammed stationary, I stay the hell away.

They are a great couple. Where one is frenetic, the other is laidback. Where one tends to diva out, the other tends toward neutral. They are both devoted to each other in sickeningly sweet ways. They make a great team -- which makes it even more awkward to be sitting and watching from the sidelines.

Snuggie.

When it comes to touching people, I feel like I err toward the side of caution. I don't particularly enjoy being touched by people that I don't know or particularly like. I'm not going to be the person to give you a hug when I first meet you. I have had people go for a hug after the first meeting and it will only end in tears.

But if you are my friend, particularly one of my gay friends, watch out. No body part is safe. I hug, I snuggle, I big spoon, I hold hands, I grab asses. You name it, it will probably be attended to in some platonic way.

Which is all the more awkward when I find out that a friend doesn't like being touched. I have this friend that I recently found out doesn't like being overly touched, so you know that it is like telling a two year old not to touch the hot stove. All I want to do is touch this kid. I want to hug him, I want to watch movies intertwined on the couch, I want to be the goddamn big spoon. It's awful. I do all of those things with his boyfriend, no problem. Boyfriend and I will kiss goodbye, and he's by the door of his car with a lame, "Call me tomorrow." What!? No. You will take your hug like a man and then you'll be on your way.

Everyone needs their personal space. I get it, I shouldn't intrude, personal bubble, all that jazz. I'm pretty sure that he considers me to be a good friend. I feel like we moved past casual acquaintance a while ago. But I'm still afraid that anytime my hand accidentally grazes his knee, he's dying on the inside.

I hate to think of what he's thinking when I "accidentally" squeeze his ass.

Lessons Learned

A lesson I learned over the weekend -- never turn your back on a gay man with a water balloon. You will end up with a soaking wet ass.

You Don't Own Me

The use of possessive pronouns between gay men and their queer dears has always interested me. I'm definitely guilty of it -- "my gays," "my boys," etcetera. The first person I can remember hearing it from was Kathy Griffin on her Bravo show. She was talking about her friends and she called them "her gays," while the camera panned to a man with the caption of "Kathey's Gay". It brought to mind a group of gay men that she kept in a spare bedroom solely for fashion advice and a sharply worded sassy comment.

I've asked a few of my friends if they mind being identified as "my gays," and got mostly nonchalant reactions -- shrugs or simply, "whatever, it's not a big deal." I sometimes fear that they don't appreciate being referred to with solely an identifier; why not just say "my friends" instead of "my gays"? My mother, of all people, once scolded me for referring to one of my friends as one of my gays, telling me that I need to consider the rest of his personality and not just that one label, the one part of himself.

I was recently hanging out with two guys that I have gotten close to, and one of them remarked that I have "adopted" the other. That was what got me on this thought process. I don't know of any other social circles where this sort of language occurs than the relationship between gay men and straight women.

But then I realize that I'm probably just overthinking it and should just go out and enjoy a cocktail with my new adopted gay.

In with the new.

Befriending new gays is very nerve-wracking to me. It's sort of like a first date-- I stress over what I'm wearing, what I say, how I think they're perceiving me. Sometimes I wish that I had a sign on that says, "I'm cool, I promise. Give it a week and you will love me."

I'm in a community theater production of "Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat" as Mrs. Potiphar (because of course I would be cast as the Slutty McSlut of the Bible story), and am meeting new gays in the process. It's not a problem in community theater, but I always strive to find ways to make sure that everyone feels comfortable and knows that they can be however they want to around me -- after my years in the gay trenches, there is very little anymore that shocks me.

Making friends as an adult is difficult at times. It isn't like college, where you join a club or have a class and make friends. I'm always afraid that I'm going to come on to strong when meeting new people and somehow alienate them in the process.

In the end, I just rely on being the most fabulous I can be and make sure that they know that I will always have their back and will stop them from leaving the house in ugly shoes and be there for them when they're having a drunken emotional meltdown. As a professional Queer Dear, it's the least I can do.

HIV Cure?

A friend of mine posted this article on Facebook this morning. A man with both leukemia and HIV underwent a bone marrow transplant and his HIV has seemingly disappeared. It bolsters the opinion that a cure may one day be found. Very interesting stuff.

Shower of Stoles

The relationship between homosexuality and religion is fragile at best. Many of the prejudices that people cling to are declared to be based in religion. When there is a person who is gay and is also religious, it is met with confusion and sometimes anger and even more hatred.

The Northaven United Methodist Church in Dallas currently has an exhibit of liturgical stoles (religious garb worn by clergy around the neck, usually over a clerical robe) from different Jewish and Christian denominations from religious leaders that are gay. There is an article that further details it here, and the exhibit will be open until June 5. If you're in the Dallas area you should check it out and hear the stories and honor those who are standing up for themselves and fighting hatred in Jesus' name, amen.

What Would You Do?

What Would You Do? is a show on ABC that puts ordinary people in confrontations with actors in moral and ethical dilemmas in front of hidden cameras. It's very interesting to see people's reactions to different situations. A friend of mine is an actress in New York who has appeared on the show several times. On one occasion, she was attempting to steal a bike and actually had a guy help her steal it while a black male was in the same situation and had the cops called on him. Another time, she was placed at a table in a diner and tried to get a free meal by putting a roach on her plate and saying that it had been in her food; a patron of the diner chased her into the parking lot to yell at her.

This video showcases a diner in a small town in Texas, so it hits close to home. Two gay parents are having breakfast with their children and the waitress verbally abuses them. The show was trying to see how many people would stand up for the gay parents. I think every politician attempting to uphold the ban of gay marriage because it is "what the American people want" needs to see this video.

Homophobia in Houston

A friend of mine had the following experience last week at The Drake bar in Houston and wanted to share his story:

"So we went for a paint party, which was put on by Day Glow. And it was awesome by the way! Basically they have paint cannons that shoot water-based paint on you, people throwing paint on you, etc. And then dancing and all.
But anyways, J____ and I were outside waiting for friends and we were just hugging (maybe kiss on the cheek, can't remember for sure) when the bouncer made some comment like "oh gays, oh no! Get out!" and made us leave. We snuck back in to get our friends and as we were leaving, I was drunk...so I brushed up against the bouncer on the way out. He proceeded to call the cops over on us. Another bouncer then came over and he was really nice and basically just told us to stand on the sidewalk to avoid any trouble. So we did while waiting for our ride and then left."

I know one Houston bar that will no longer have my patronage, asshole bouncer or not.

When a little is too much.

There are times in life when a little information can be too much information. Take the following conversation, for example:

Me: "So I was talking to P___.....do you know him well?"

Him: "I know that he has a picture of his naked ass as his profile picture on Manhunt."

Me: ".............why did you tell me that?"

Him: "You asked if I knew him!"

Too much, friends. Tooooo much.

Smash!

NBC has just optioned a new show called "Smash". The show follows a Broadway team that is putting on a Broadway musical based on the life of Marilyn Monroe. It involves the composers, the directors, the producers, the hopeful actresses, and fabulous dancers, including my wonderful friend who is hoofing it on Broadway in real life -- he was most recently in West Side Story (my favorite) as Chino.

There are two videos of interest (i.e., where I can see him and gasp with excitement).

The trailer:



The baseball dance scene:



I'm very excited for this show and hopefully you are, too! Be sure to watch it when it airs.

Reasons That You Will Love "Thor"

Reasons that you will love the new movie "Thor":

1. I could just end the list here. I mean, really.


2. The land where Thor is from is called Asgard, so all of the people are Asgardians. And when they say it, it sounds like "ass guardians." I'm just saying.

3. The way to get from Asgard to Earth is by taking the Rainbow Bridge. I'm not making this up.

4. Loki looks like Johnny Weir. Distractingly so.

5. A group of Thor's Viking friends are also his warrior friends, one of whom is a female. A female who knows that Thor looks like that under the armor yet isn't trying to get a piece of the thunder? I call lesbian.

If you do go to see "Thor" (which really was a good movie and was very entertaining -- both my friend and I said that we'd be willing to see it again, so you know it didn't suck), make sure to stay until after the credits. As this Thor is part of the Avengers, there is an extra scene involving S.H.I.E.L.D. and Nick Fury after the credits. Which I did not know when I saw it and which is one of the reasons why I'd see it again. So if you see it, let me know what the scene is and the level of badassery achieved by Samuel L. Jackson.

It Gets Better

I was watching the newest episode of Glee tonight (while secretly just waiting for the preview of the next episode.....Jonathan Groff is back, whaaaat!?), when a commercial for Google Chrome came on.

I am a big fan of social media. Obviously, as I am writing a blog. I would be lying if I said that being away from Facebook, Twitter, and Gmail for more than a few hours gives me the vapors. And I'm always excited when social media highlights new and relevant issues.

This commercial is highlighting the It Gets Better Project. The project was started by Dan Savage as a reaction to the increasing accounts of LGBT bullying and teen suicides.

You win this time, social media. Thank god they didn't use adorable animals, because that is my true Achilles heel and Google Chrome would have been downloaded before the commercial stopped airing.

Watch:

DVD Review : The Kids Are All Right

I watched "The Kids Are All Right" over the weekend. I've had it in from Netflix since February at least. Oops.

Short and Sweet : Some day I would like to watch a movie about lesbians where a lesbian does not have sex with a man. I don't know what it is about Hollywood movies that just can't seem to let a lesbian sleep with women (I'm looking at you, Chasing Amy).

Nic and Jules have two children, Joni and Laser, that they had via sperm bank. When Joni turns 18, she's able to make contact with the sperm donor, Paul. And hijinks ensue, of course. Nic resents the way that everyone takes to Paul and lets him into the family and starts to feel like she's being replaced. Jules has been feeling distant from Nic, and she enters into an affair with Paul so that she can "feel appreciated." What.

Best Scene : Nic and Jules watch gay male porn and Laser and his douchebag friend find a DVD of it when they're searching his moms' room for pot; they watch it and Jules catches them, leading Nic and Jules to think that Laser is gay. The subsequent conversation between Nic, Jules, and Laser was one of the funnier moments in the movie.

Family Values : The one thing that had me thinking were the family values in the movie; not so much between the lesbian parents, who had raised two healthy, functional members of society, but why the kids were so eager to have Paul around and hang out with him after the initial meeting. Maybe people are naturally curious about their roots and their family, but in my opinion they were very eager to bring a person into their family who previously hadn't known they existed, and it wasn't because their moms neglected them. Nic was the most real character, in that respect -- she felt that he was usurping her authority with her kids (for example, he gave Joni a ride home on his motorcycle when he knew she didn't want the kids on motorcycles) and who was he, anyway? An anonymous sperm donor versus the woman who raised the kids for eighteen years?

But then I remembered it was just a movie.

The Fabulous Kingdom

I love all things Disney. Princess, adventure, theme park, cartoon, Broadway, whatever. I love it and will always have to fight the urge to immerse myself in Disney Scrooge McDuck style. I am convinced that I will never be too old for Disney movies or a romp through Disney World. In fact, the first time my family and I went to Animal Kingdom, I was 12 and it was early June. My uncle warned my father that we might want to wait and go to the park a different day because it was Disney's Gay Day. We went anyway, and all of our pictures have men in red shirts and shorty shorts in the background.

I was doing my usual "bored on the Wikipedia" routine (beginning with one person and clicking on various articles that interest me and reading them) and I stumbled upon the entry for Tommy Kirk, one of the ubiquitous Disney live-action movie stars of the late 1950s and early 1960s. It turns out he was fired by Walt Disney in 1963, after it was discovered that Kirk, at 23, was having a sexual relationship with a 15 year old boy. Whoops.

One of the footnotes to that story is to an interview called The Fabulous Kingdom, which is an interview with Sean Griffin, the author of Tinker Belles and Evil Queens: The Walt Disney Company from the Inside Out. The article describes the book as "documenting both the accidental and deliberate embrace of gay consumers by America's most calculating purveyor of "family values" entertainment" and that the author "finds enough threads to weave a pink cape for Maleficent, the villainess of Sleeping Beauty."

I must read this book.

Good Vibrations.

I have a confession to make.

Talk about masturbation makes me uncomfortable.

I don't know why. I'm a Victorian lady at heart.

But I will close my eyes and think of England to tell this story.

Somehow last summer, the talk turned to masturbation. And I visibly squirmed and stuttered and was incredibly uncomfortable. Which my friends loved and used as a secret weapon to shut me up. The masturbation talk eventually turned to vibrators, where it was revealed that I didn't have one, had never owned one, and wasn't in the market, but thanks.

"HWHAT?!?!?!" was the unanimous response. "YOU DON'T HAVE A VIBRATOR?!?!?! WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU?!?!?!?!?!"

They all had very strong opinions about the matter, which was surprising to me, as the matter happened to be ladyparts. I have no idea why they were so concerned.

It has been a running theme, the lack of vibrator in my life. At one point, I was ambushed KGB style and taken to a sex shop and subjected to all sorts of penises. Big scary penises, cartoon penises, Hulk-esque penises. More penises than a girl could ever need or want. Too many penises, is what I'm saying. Penis trauma.

Last month, when I was in New York, I was telling my friend about all of the stress my vibrator-less life was causing my poor boys, how they were apparently up at night lamenting the fact that I was not picking up good vibrations. She laughed, asked a few innocuous questions ("Do you want to go out and get one?" "Not really." "Oh, okay."), and we moved on.

Cut to last week. I hadn't checked my mail in a month or so (oops), so I opened my mailbox and was avalanched by junk-mail and a parcel box key.

"How curious," I said to myself. "I don't remember ordering anything."

I gathered up my piles of mail and went to the privacy of my own home and opened up the first box.

Inside the box was a book entitled "Tickle Your Fancy: A Woman's Guide to Sexual Self-Pleasure."

I felt an interesting mix of panic and confusion. Where had the book come from? I hadn't ordered a book about self-pleasure. In fact, I was blushing just reading the title. I'm blushing just typing it.

I convinced myself that it was a fancy brochure trying to sell something and moved on to the second box.

I cut open the tape and folded back the cardboard and was it was like watching the end of "Se7en":



Vibrators. Plural. Multiple vibrators. Two of them, to be specific, one of them covered in daisies.

Once I recovered from the shock, I checked the shipping slip. Sure enough, they were from my friend in New York.

Thank you?

And yes, my friends are all thrilled.

Weirdos.

I Wanna Hold Your Hand.

I'm not going to lie, this made me clutch my chest and sniffle.

DVD Review : Burlesque

I watched "Burlesque" on DVD on a couch in the comfort and peace and quiet of my own living room. Peace and quiet for me to yell at my TV, of course.

First Impressions : God damn, Cher looks fabulous. I don't care if her cheekbones have been lifted to her eyebrows or if she has more wigs than a drag queen. Fabulous.

White Girl Problems : Christina Aguilera's character, Ali, has come to LA to become a successful singer but has to settle for being a bargirl at a burlesque club where the girls lip sync to "the great singers" while doing provocative strip teases. Cher is the owner of the club, Tess, who is having trouble with the payments on the building. All seems lost until one of the girls gets pregnant and Ali gets to take her place. One of the stars of the shows is jealous of her and tries to sabotage her by pulling the plug on her lip sync track. Little does she know.

White Girl Solutions : Ali's amazing vocals has Tess revamping the show because "they'll come to hear her sing," as Tess tells the vengeful slut. Ali also solves her loneliness problem by having her cheap-ass apartment burgled and running to the couch of the eyeliner wearing bartender, who she assumes is gay but is actually just into guyliner to get tips at the bar. Who knew.

The Real Reason to See the Movie : Be honest. If you're watching "Burlesque," you don't care much for plot. You care about glitter and divas. And by god, this movie delivers. There's one scene where the sound guy asks Tess if she wants to rehearse a number for the next day. It has nothing to do with the rest of the movie or the plot or anything. In fact, it's kind of bizarre that the song is a slow jam, considering it's supposed to be played in a burlesque club. "Wait a minute," you might think, "people can't strip to this!" If you're thinking that, you don't need to be watching "Burlesque." The movie is an excuse for fabulous songs and costumes and glitter and Cher, the end.

The Token Gay : Stanley Tucci as the costumer/manager/BFF of Cher. I know that Stanley Tucci isn't gay, but that is just a damn shame because he is a fabulous sassy gay friend. And he has a great sassy gay friend resume, first to Meryl Streep and now to Cher? He is the luckiest bitch in the world. He also has a job as the fashion designer of a burlesque club and has a one night stand with a super cute younger guy -- they don't remember each other's names the morning after and realize that they called each other the wrong names the night before. Yep, token Hollywood gay.

The Diva : Motherfuckin' Cher, y'all. CHER. She is an amazing woman who, rumor has it, performed her showstopping number "You Haven't Seen the Last of Me" completely live. This woman is a god and I will proudly admit that I worship at the altar of Cher.

The Resolution : In true White Girl Problems fashion, the uneducated but supposedly street smart Ali is able to save Tess's club by using a story the developer who wants to buy Tess's club used to try to woo Ali against him (something about air rights? Again, plot and logic are not the strong suits here). Guyliner breaks up with his long distance girlfriend in order to sleep with Ali. It ends with a fabulous group number. All is right in the burlesque club.

Overall Score : Three rainbows out of five. It was fun and entertaining. And Christina and Cher can siiiing, guys. I liked Cher's songs more than Christina's, of course. If you get distracted by sparkly things, you'll love this movie.

Overall Gay : Infinity rainbows out of five. Bitch, please. Cher. Christina. Sassy Stanley Tucci. A small role by Alan Cumming. Glitter. Wigs. Guyliner. This movie is gayer than a unicorn galloping triumphantly on a rainbow through the gayborhood that is having a Gay Pride Parade. We're talking a lot of gay here.

Fabulous NYC.

I finally have a minute to sit and reminisce about my fabulous New York City vacation!

Highlights:

* Two Broadway shows -- Catch Me If You Can starring Aaron Tveit and Norbert Leo Butz and Priscilla Queen of the Desert starring Nick Adams' biceps and drag queens.

* Catch Me If You Can is a new musical based on the book/Leonardo DiCaprio movie about Frank Abagnale Jr, who was a con artist and millionaire by the time he was 20 by writing bad checks. The fact that he got away with it all is pretty astounding, really.
Aaron Tveit played Frank and Norbert Leo Butz was the FBI agent who was searching for him. The music is by the people who wrote the Hairspray musical, so it's still stuck in my head two weeks later. Very fun show with tons of lush colors and costumes. And the voices. Holy shit. Aaron Tveit is best known as the original Gabe in Next to Normal, and he did not disappoint. I started wondering if the role of Frank had been written expressly for his voice, because I recognized a lot of the power notes from my marathon listening/sobfests to the Next to Normal soundtrack. Also -- shirtless twice. Because let's face it, shirtless Aaron Tveit is a big reason to see a show.
(On a gay sidenote, Aaron is in Howl, the movie about Allen Ginsberg and the publication of the Howl poem and subsequent controversy, playing Peter Orlovsky, Ginsberg's boyfriend. Allen Ginsberg is played by James Franco. Hot.)
And Norbert Leo Butz is amazing and sort of adorable. He was easily the shortest cast member at 5'7 but his stage presence and all around amazingness had me watching him in every scene he was in. His acting was the best of the cast as he morphed himself into the schlumpy Agent Hanratty. His Act I song "Don't Break the Rules" stopped the show; the applause went on for a solid two minutes. Phenomenal.

* Priscilla Queen of the Desert was another very fun show. Three drag queens in the Australian outback on a road trip to a show in a casino run by one of the queens' estranged wife. It's based on the 1994 movie starring Hugo Weaving, Terrence Stamp, and Guy Pearce (swoon). The songs are all recognizable camp drag queen karaoke hits, like "It's Raining Men," "Girls Just Want to Have Fun," "Hot Stuff," "Material Girl," etc. At one point, I was moved to tears, which I was completely not expecting yet totally saw coming (one of the characters goes out into the Aussie hick town dressed in drag and kisses a guy, who rips off her wig. The subsequent bashing, as well as the fireside conversation of the queens that follows had me sniffling and feigning allergies to the lovely gay boy sitting next to me).
It's not a particularly groundbreaking show, or even an original show, but it's fun. One of the producers is Better Midler, and let's face it, I will love anything Bette Midler touches.

* On a related note, Nick Adams is my new gay boyfriend. Good god, that is one attractive man with killer glitter lipstick. Hello, lover.

*My friend and I went to the St. Patrick's Day Parade which was a clusterfuck. I had no idea what to expect but I know a bunch of drunk and disorderly teenagers wasn't it.

*We saw Celtic Woman at Radio City Music Hall on St. Patrick's Day. They have amazing voices and a violinist we dubbed "the fiddle ninja." Seriously, she was jumping all over the stage so much that I thought for sure she would hit herself in the eye with her bow.

* Of course, I had to wander around Christopher Street and Greenwich Village. A friend and I went to Stonewall Inn and Gay Street for the photo op. I can't resist a good touristy photo op. We also went to Marie's Crisis Cafe in the West Village. A gay piano bar that plays all showtunes. It was like I saw a vision of heaven. It was glorious.

* All in all, the trip was all about love.

N Y C.

I'm slowly recovering from a week spent living the high life with friends in New York City. A full detailed account is soon to come. Oh, the tales I have, girls and gays.

Including, but not limited to, a gay piano bar that exclusively plays showtunes, becoming a friend of Dorothy at Stonewall, falling in love with a drag queen, and explaining that chatting with boys on Grindr will not bring you closer to Jesus.

It was pretty much a typical week for me.

Spring broke.

I was talking to a friend of mine recently about his Spring Break plans. His plans were to go to the beach with a big group of friends. Two of them are a couple and have hit a rough point in their relationship, so he began telling me about all of the drama that's been going on.

"So now we're not going to the beachhouse because they're going to spend some time to work on their relationship. But don't worry," he reassured me. I assumed he was going to say something about how he thought things would turn out with them.

"But don't worry. I'm still going to the beach!"

A gay and his UV rays are not soon parted.

Spandex alert!

For the past two nights, I have been immersing myself in culture and beauty. In the gayest way possible, of course.

Cirque du Soleil's OVO show is in Houston. The show opened tonight at Sam Houston Race Park, but a friend of mine works for a web marketing company and runs the website for the park, so she scored free tickets to the invited dress rehearsal preview (tickets that, we overheard at the show, were going for $200 through the local PBS telecast sale). She was unfortunately out of town on business, so her boyfriend gave me the extra ticket. Far be it from us to let something free go to waste.

I had never been to Cirque du Soleil and didn't know what to expect, other than a vague idea of ridiculous acrobatics. And OVO definitely delivered. The very first act involved a man holding himself up with one hand upside on a pole and then contorting himself around and slithering to the ground. There was also an act involving a rock wall and my mind is still completely blown.

The story of the show is "an immersion into the teeming and energetic world of insects." The costumes were bug-ish, which made them all rather androgynous. They incorporated the bug costumes into the act only slightly; one act has a group of five girls dressed as ants who juggle plastic food pieces with their feet. And also, they toss and catch each other. WITH THEIR FEET. The interlocking plot, however, involves two bugs that are falling in love. I guess. I don't know, I honestly wasn't paying much attention to the parts that didn't have people bending their backs in half or doing a trapeze on their head.



Tonight was the opening night of Houston Ballet's "The Sleeping Beauty". I love Sleeping Beauty. It's possibly my favorite Disney movie and one of the main reasons is because of Tchiakovsky's score. I love the music and really wanted to see the ballet. Tonight was the only night I could see it due to Spring Break plans, so my friend Aerin braved the nosebleed seats with me (for $18 I will sit anywhere).

It was gorgeous. I'm pretty sure I annoyed Aerin with all of my excited faces and gasping, but I truly loved it. The dancing was incredible, the music was wonderful, and the ballet had wonderful visual effects -- there was a scene where the evil fairy Carabosse disappears from the stage and I still don't know how she left but I'm pretty sure there had to be magic involved. And honestly, ever time I heard a piece of music I recognized from the Disney movie, I turned into a five year old.

Both events had me marveling at the levels of athleticism and talent that they all possessed. I mean, I can't even complete a whole push-up. I push down, but then I can't really get back up, while Cirque du Soleil has people doing handstands fifteen feet in the air on a trapeze. And, though I danced for 13 years as a child, I almost twisted my ankle tonight as I was flitting around the lobby, looking more like the hippo from Fantasia than Aurora.

Lesson learned -- men are good. Flexible men in spandex are better.

Throwin' Shade.

This is the story of how I got my amazing sunglasses.

I had a pair of funky Target sunglasses and I was in love with them. They went everywhere with me. They were $5 Rayban knock-offs with this weird zebra printing and they were phenomenal.

I went home one weekend and my brother was home from college. He asked me if I wanted a pair of aviator sunglasses. Apparently a friend of his gave them to him but then he found out they were women's glasses so he was paying them forward.

I was hesitant to take them, as I was already in a committed relationship with my Target glasses, but who am I to refuse anything that's free? So I took them and they languished in my room for a few months.

My Target glasses eventually reached the end of their journey (I'm pretty sure I sat on them). In Texas summers, sunglasses are a necessity. I dug up the glasses my brother gave me and wore them around.

Then, one fateful day, I was out shopping with one of my gays when he suddenly let out a gay gasp.

"Are those......Chanel aviators?!?!?!?!?!" he asked, clutching his chest.

I took them off, and sure enough there was "CHANEL" imprinted on the frames.

"Of course they are! What do you take me for?" I replied. I probably gave a hair flip for good measure.

And I have worn them ever since.

The Feminine Mystique.

Ladyparts. A mystery to some, an inconvenience to others.

I was able to talk to my best girl friend today and she regaled me with a hysterical story of getting an IUD birth control placed. It made her decide then and there to never go through the miracle of childbirth because, according to her, "it was like there was a rabid squirrel clawing inside my uterus." It involved internal organs having to move around in positions that were not what God intended. She's pretty sure that she was moments from death.

When she told me the story, I thought some of my internal organs would burst from laughing so hard. My appendix for sure will never be the same. In the end she's the true winner, because not only does she not have to pop a pill every day or get a shot every month, but she's not going to have to worry about unplanned pregnancy for five years. Not to mention that she's not going to have a period for YEARS. Lucky bitch.

So sleep well tonight, gays, knowing that you will never have to know the pain and suffering that we go through to insure that we are doing our part to not irresponsibly populate the planet. We do it because we care -- but it hurts so much, you're lucky we do it at all.

What, what, what are you doing?!

There are a few fun things about being an English teacher. School vacations, for one thing. I'm a big fan of summer vacation.

One of the other fun things is teaching my students Shakespeare. At first they grumble and moan and whine and are about one grocery aisle away from throwing themselves on the floor and kicking their feet and screaming. But inevitably, as we read the plays (or, as they read the words and I interpret them into English that they will understand), they begin to understand the characters and realize that the themes that were relevant 400 years ago are still relevant today.

Some things aren't as relevant, however. For example, my freshman kids read Romeo and Juliet. And every year I hear the same thing:
"Didn't they just meet? Why are they getting married already?"
"Didn't you say Juliet is 13? Ewwwwwwwww, and she's getting married!?"
"Is Romeo/Juliet hot?"
"Um, why are they killing themselves?"
"This is gay."

My sophomore class reads Othello. From them, I get:
"Why is Iago such an asshole?"
"Why does Desdemona do whatever her husband says?"
"Why doesn't Othello just talk to Desdemona instead of killing her?"
"What does 'make the beast with two backs' mean?"
"Is Desdemona/Othello hot?"
"This is gay."

And my seniors read Hamlet. Their pearls of wisdom are:
"Can't you just give me a 70 and not make me read this?"
"This is gay."

So imagine my delight when I found The Second City videos of the Sassy Gay Friend. Finally! Someone to tell all of the Shakespeare heroines that they are a stupid bitch.

I love these videos because they are what every reader wishes they can do when they're reading Shakespeare tragedies. Someone desperately needs to take these ladies out for drinks and therapy and maybe a nice spa day.

They've also given my friends and me plenty of one liners to pop at one another. Look at your life, look at your choices.

Romeo and Juliet


Othello


Hamlet

I can hear the bells....

President Obama has instructed the Justice Department to "stop defending the Defense of Marriage Act", the act that bars recognition of same-sex marriages, in the court system. They are considering it discriminatory and unconstitutional.

It is a huge step towards equality under the law. Obama currently supports civil unions but says that his views are evolving.

Exciting!

Singles Awareness Day

Valentine's Day happened. I overdosed on cakeballs.

That pretty much sums up that day.

Charisma, Uniqueness, Nerve, Talent.

If you are anything like me, you have been completely ensconced in the world of RuPaul's Drag Race.

I love this show. Love. It. It's a reality competition show to find the next "drag superstar." I became obsessed during season 2, and I am still outraged by the injustice of the finale (Tyra over Jujubee? Bitch, please). I love watching the transformations that makeup, costumes, and the proper application of Saran Wrap can achieve. Drag truly is an artform, and I enjoy watching masters of the craft in action. Anytime people are expressing themselves and are creative, I am happy, especially if they're really good and full of drama (shout-out to Raven and her gloooorious attitude and Tatianna fighting with everyone). Plus, they were all pretty, in and out of makeup.

That season also introduced me to the wonder that is Pandora Boxx, and for that I will always be grateful.

So I was very excited for the third season. It's been on for three weeks now so of course I have my favorites.

1. Raja
Raja is the oldest contestant and has been doing drag for twenty years. You may recognize her out of drag as Sutan, the makeup artist from America's Next Top Model (at least, I did). In his audition video, it was also revealed that he's friends with Adam Lambert, so, you know. He's already a winner. Raja won both of the challenges in the first episode and if she doesn't make it to the finals, I will eat my hat.

2. Shangela Laquifa Wadley
I loved Shangela during the one episode she was on in Season 2! She was the first one eliminated in Season 2, after having admitted that she'd only been doing drag for a year or so. She was the "wildcard" contestant who was brought in during the first episode. Draaaaama. But Shangela is sweet and fabulous and hilarious and I love her. Hallelu!

3. Delta Work
There are a few big girls on this season, but my favorite is Delta Work. She's very low-key, which I find refreshing, and is very well-spoken in her interviews. I don't know how much longer she'll be around, because her outfits for the final runway are always a bit uninspired, but I like her.

4. Manila Luzon
Every time the camera catches Manila, she's making some sort of awkward face and I love it. Also, in the space challenge, she was hysterical. She's dating Sahara Davenport from Season 2, but she's doing well on her own.

5. Carmen Carrera
Carmen is always naked. Always.

A Lesson in Priorities.

As I was waiting for dinner to begin, my phone rang.

I reluctantly pressed the answer button, managing to not take my eyes off the food.

It was someone talking about some foolishness or another. I honestly can't tell you because all I could hear was the sound of steak and baked potato telling me about how delicious they were.

I called him back a few hours later.

"What exactly was it that you wanted? I'm going to be honest, I wasn't listening to you earlier."

"What!? You weren't listening to me?!"

"Of course not! I was preoccupied with monitoring the steak for doneness so I could eat the crap out of it."

"Oh, I see. Given the choice between me and food, you'd choose food."

"Well.....if given the choice, I'd prefer to have food with you, but since the food was here and you were not.......yeah, I have to side with food on this one."

Priorities. I have them.

Snowed In

HOLY SHIT IT IS COLD IN HOUSTON RIGHT NOW.

MAYBE THERE IS SOME THEORY TO THE IDEA THAT HOUSTON'S ELECTING AN OPENLY GAY MAYOR HAS MADE HELL FREEZE OVER.

I WOULD TYPE MORE BUT MY FINGERS ARE NUMB. AND APPARENTLY IT EVEN FROZE THE CAPS LOCK KEY.

1 Girl 5 Gays.

This is genius.

HOW DID I NOT THINK OF THIS BEFORE?!?!?! All I would have done is set up a video camera in my living room on a Saturday night!

Curses! Foiled again!

The Gay/Straight Antagonism

Sometimes it's really hard to be friends with gay men. Not because they're gay. But because sometimes they're so gay.

It may be a little bit my fault. I did support the behavior. I went to the gay bars and danced my ass off to the ridiculously catchy music. I accompanied and approved of purchases of clothing that would not be out of place on Fire Island or on one of Cher's backup dancers. I applied the glitter on Halloween to make one of my friends a gay vampire.

But sometimes I'm just overwhelmed by the gayness of it all. Every bar we go to is a gay bar. Every movie we watch is a gay movie (including a gem discovered over New Years, The Big Gay Musical). Every boy we talk about is a gay boy.

Just this past weekend, a friend and I were indulging in a Pushing Daisies marathon. I mentioned that Lee Pace is from Houston. His response was, "So is Matt Bomer.....and he's gay!" (Which Matt Bomer hasn't confirmed or stated outright. All I can confirm is that he's beautiful.)

One night a few weeks ago, a girlfriend and I were talking about a male mutual friend of ours. One of my gay guy friends sauntered over.

"What are you guys talking about?"

"A guy we know."

"Oooh! Is he gay?"

"No."

"Oh. Then I don't care." And he sauntered away.

ARRRRRRRRRRRGH.

It's difficult for me. I recognize that there are only a select group of people around whom my gay friends can truly express themselves and talk about the things they're interested in (read: penises), but there is only so much gay talk that a straight woman can take.

The final straw/initial realization came to me on a night when I was with a group of straight friends. I had made tentative plans to meet up with a different group of friends (gays) to head to a gay bar later, but I was enjoying myself at the (straight) bar and wasn't quite ready to leave.

Because I had found a straight boy of my choosing and was flirting to my heart's content.

It's not my fault, really. He was 6'7". That is SIX FEET AND SEVEN INCHES TALL. Come on. It was my civic duty to flirt with him.

When my other friends texted me, I told them that I wasn't ready to go yet. Big mistake.

My phone practically exploded from the amount of texts I got while it was on the vibrate setting. They were ready to go now. They wanted to dance now. There were gay boys waiting for them at the bar now.

I told them to come to the bar. It was met with a sneer (or the textual equivalent of a sneer). I told them that I had my claws hooked into a straight and I wasn't quite done playing with him yet. This was met with, "WHATEVER JUST GIVE HIM YOUR NUMBER AND LET'S GO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

I know that being gay is tough. Especially in south Texas. But guys, don't forget that, though we queer dears may have a time and a half at the gay bars, they do absolutely nothing for our social lives. We need to go to a straight bar every once in a while. Throw us a bone every once in a while. Just make sure it's not a gay bone.

Oh helllllll no.

I may have mentioned this before, but I teach at a public high school. My students are teenagers. They are also mostly assholes.

Yesterday I had a moment that I referred to as "going fabulous," but that my students referred to as "going ghetto."

It was the last period of the day. I was tired and stressed out. And maaaybe a little cranky. Nobody knows the trouble I've seen when it comes to these kids, I'm telling you. So one of my lovelies, in the last period of the day, decided that he had "done enough work for the day," meaning that he wanted to sit and talk to another student and sleep and just generally get on my nerves.

Oh helllllll no.

I pointed my finger at him, I gave a snap or two, I wagged my head in a particularly sassy manner, and I told him that if he did not get to work right that second then I was going to come over that desk and rip his eyelids off and shove them in his mouth.

"Because then your EYES WILL BE OPEN and your MOUTH WILL BE CLOSED and if you say ONE MORE WORD SO HELP ME.......THREAT!? YOU THINK THAT SOUNDS LIKE A THREAT!? Give me the stinkeye one more time and I'LL SHOW YOU A THREAT!"

Once he (wisely) went back to work, I smoothed my hair back down and excused myself for going fabulous on his ass.

Needless to say, the class was silent until the end of the day.

Texty text.

Now. Don't get me wrong. I love a good text message conversation. For the times when verbal conversation exerts too much energy. And trust me, I've been there.

But there are some conversations that should be reserved for actual human speech. Announcing a pregnancy scare, for example. Or if you have to tell someone that their dog has died. Or if there's some sort of medical emergency of some kind.

There's also another type of conversation that should extend past the text message forum. The "I can't tell in what tone that was meant" conversation.

It's difficult to interpret tone through a text message. The simple word "whatever" can be nonchalant, passive aggressive, dismissive, or annoyed. Someone can be offended by something that was meant to be innocent.

A Friend of mine is a habitual texter. He's had many a relationship ended via text message. One of his recent dalliances was made complicated by his boyfriend feeling that things were becoming distant. What was his evidence of the distance? "He seemed distant in his text messages."

WHAT.

Just the other day, a Guy he's been talking to was spotted at dinner by a friend, and texted my Friend. Friend texted Guy and asked him what he was doing. When he answered that he was at dinner, Friend asked who he was with. The conversation snowballed to accusations of lying and stalking and CRAZY.

This situation may not have been able to be saved by an actual phone call, but I guarantee you that text messages that are confusing and borderline offensive can be saved by talking.

Too many gays that I know depend solely on text messages for their communication needs, which, when given their snarky nature, will probably eventually cause problems. All of which can be solved by talking instead of texting.

Glee for "Glee"!

The Golden Globes were this past Sunday and "Glee" had a few big wins, including acting wins for Jane Lynch and Chris Colfer.

"Glee" is a show that celebrates diversity, even if it sometimes leans towards the stereotypical (don't get me started on the episode that had Mercedes obsessed with tater tots), and it celebrates people getting to be who they are and being accepted for it. Chris Colfer's acceptance speech, much less the moment when his name is announced as the winner, melted my heart.



ADORABLE.

Jane Lynch's speech was perfect.



And the creator, Ryan Murphy, and the writers, along with the cast, accept the award for Best Comedy Series. (Ignore Lea Michele's hideous dress.)



Love it, "Glee". Love the show, love the cast, love the writers. Love it.