Pride Month is over but lo and behold, I’m still gay and I’m still gonna gay it up for you at Wear Your Voice. Here we go, homos.
1. Brainstormed ideas for this article with my grrlfriend while we laid in bed and she played with my armpit hair. Do I even need to break down the gayness of this incident? I mean, yes, having a grrlfriend is super gay already. Having a grrlfriend who insists you spell it with two R’s is extra gay. And then there’s the armpit hair/playing with the armpit hair. True story: I met her on OkCupid and her statement on her profile, “I like armpit hair” made me laugh and convinced me to message her. And I’m glad I did because I’m totally gay for her… and her armpit hair.
2. Pushed a laundry cart full of our clothes with my grrlfriend in Bernal Heights.
We had a laundry date the other night in San Francisco (don’t take it personally, Oakland), in the lesbian capital of the city, sometimes referred to as Lesbian-Landia. As we pushed the cart together down the steep street, our respective laundry bags bouncing, I remarked that this might be the gayest thing I’ve ever done. And then we talked about other hella gay things we’d done. And then this article was born. And as we sat on a bench outside we got one of those hilarious “Aw, you’re gay!” looks from a mother getting into her minivan with her two children and husband, signaling to us that she is totally progressive and cool with it. Uh, thanks, lady. Other gays know exactly what look I’m talking about. And straight people, you know too, because you give those looks. Don’t even act like you don’t.
3. Shaved my head as a college-aged baby dyke.
This is a rite of passage for many young queer women. It’s a risk because you don’t know if you have a weird, lumpy head until you shave off all your hair. Luckily, it turns out my head is relatively bump-free and I rocked the shaved head look. And oh man, if you think coming out will piss off your parents, wait til you show up for Thanksgiving with no hair. I quite enjoyed watching my passive-aggressive mother quietly seethe but refuse to make any comments. 21-year-old baby dykes love that shit. What I didn’t enjoy is how everyone touched my head without asking. Also, growing out a shaved head is the worst. For months you have an awkward mullet and weird spiky little baby hairs that can’t be tamed. It’s worth it, though, you have to shave your head at least once. It’s in the handbook.
4. Moved to Oakland.
Sure, New York City is pretty gay. It’s where I came out and then felt trapped because where else would be so accepting of my homosexual ways? Um, duh, Oaktown. As I’ve noted here before, Oakland has the highest concentration of lesbian couples per capita in the U.S. (take that, San Francisco! We are wayyyy more lesbionic). Everywhere I go in this beautiful city, I encounter cute queers and my heart gets all a-flutter. In New York, I never felt like I fit in. Because of my femme-ness, I was often overlooked by the haughtier queers. For some reason, no one knew I was gay there. Here, the smart, sexy queers know I’m a dyke, even when I’m rocking lipstick and short skirts…which is always. I have more queer female friends than I ever have. Many of them raise chickens. Most of them use menstrual sponges. All of them love to process. It’s lesbian paradise and I’m never leaving.
5. Have sex with women. I mean, lez be real, it doesn’t get much gayer than that.