Sunday Top Ten: Gayest Moments of My Life Part ONE

As your Mom(s) probs told you, I'm a finalist in the LGBT Blog Awards (voting begins January 5th). Therefore today I must talk about gay things. (Every day is gay day at my other blog auto-straddle, just FYI). I've perused the blogs of my nine co-finalists -- including an actual famous person, the web's largest LGBTQ group blog, last year's winner, a famous well-established news blog, an activist transwoman, an "openly gay, pro-choice, gun owning, pro-death penalty, voted-for-President Bush authentic feminist" and um ... "the internet home for the American gay conservative" -- and determined my only chance to win this thing is via a RUDY -esque last-minute triumph of underdog glory (You can call me "Marie" for the chanting part, 'cause "Riese" only has one syllable. RU-DY, MA-RIE, etc.). Chances are it'll be less like Rudy and more like real life, where the underdog sits on the bench and eats peanuts from a can. Well ideally cashews.

Obvs I'm honored to be on this prestigious list among these world-class bloggers, I love everyone, this is great for visibility, and I'm totally pumped just to be nominated. I think I represent the NeXt GeNeratioN of insane queer weirdos. I feel much like Blabbeando (an excellent blogger and new-discovery, thanks Webblog Awards!), who said in his "I'm a finalist post": "There is the itty-bitty detail of being matched up with Joe, Pam, Bilerico and Andy Towleroad as nominees. Beat them for the award? Yeah, right." Me too, Andrès, me too. But you know what, RU-DY RU-DY! YEAH! AN-DRÈS!

I feel among friends -- up there with Pam of Pam's House Blend, who I worked with on the 8 Against 8 Campaign -- her blog is fabulous and I read it every day. Also I know Susie Bright (my fellow bisexual nominiee) -- she's one of my favorite feminists & sexperts & writers in the world, and she edited The Best American Erotica of 2007, and picked my story to be in it! -- read Susie interviewing me here.

To segue into this weeks Gay Top Ten Topic let me tell you about when I met Joe.My.God who won last year. Lesbo blogger Curly McDimple organized the '07 Gay Blogger Weenie Roast, which I attended out of gay pride although it combined several of my most loathed activities: daytime drinking, outdoor eating in hot weather, networking proactively, beer, socializing with strangers, and traveling to the farthest reaches of Park Slope from Harlem by subway on a weekend. Sometimes one must suck it up and stop whining in order to be a good networker.

But I went (see photo of Hav & I expertly networking with Jamie, who's not gay but I forced her to attend anyhow) and brought Haviland, Carly and Carly's friend Roy (he's the one who told me "that's Joe.My.God, he's a real big deal") and it was super gay. Also super balmy, I sweated like a nun at a gay weenie roast.

Our new friend Caroline (we'd just met her on the rosie cruise) (she's now engaged to Heather Matarazzo) was there bartending, so it was awesome to see her AND I ran into a lesbo friend from my brief tenure at Sarah Lawrence -- well, she wasn't my friend exactly, she was my gay best friend's lesbian friend's then-girlfriend. We were sorta friends. The moral of the story is this was super gay and that's how it is with the gays.

But was it one of the Top Ten Gayest Moments of my life? No probs not, doesn't stand a chance against Tegan & Sara or the No on Prop 8 Rally, which brings me to today's Top Ten Topic ... to be delivered in two segments of five, 'cause doing all ten at once would be really long and I know you're all very busy.

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THE TOP TEN GAYEST MOMENTS OF MY LIFE ON EARTH
Part One, Items 10-6

First an honorable mention During my Mom's NYC weekend visit in April '07, my then-girlfriend TB was playing "percussive stuff at this new monthly Queer/Trannie Ethnic Drum party in Brooklyn." The idea of going to gay things with my gay Mom makes me really itchy, and although I protested that I wasn't ethnic enough for the drum circle (and I anticipated it involving actual granola), TB insisted and Mom was down. Therfore on a rainy dark April night I took Mom to far-away-land, Brooklyn on a series of buses (train canceled). Although TB had anticipated a "down-to-earth spiritual, tabla/djembe, chill-in-living room sorta thing" we got "whoa nightclub, ethnic hipsters and miked percussion." (all quotes are TB's, from this) and she apologized and said we could go, as it might not pick up for many hours, I had an article to write and Mom is a Mom -- it did pick up later, but by then we had cabbed it home.

The point is that had serious Best Gay Moment POTENTIAL but due to the thwarted extra gayness opportunity (actual ethnic hippie drum circle), cannot rightfully be on this list. But it deserves a moment.

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10. The Rosie Cruise

Everything about the Rosie Cruise is so gay, I could probs assemble a Top 10 Gayest Moments on the Rosie Cruise for each year I've gone (Alaska, Key West 1 & 2, New England/Canada 1 & 2 ). Gay families, gay children, themed costume nights, Susan Powter wandering the boat yelling about her vagina and/or yoga, a musical theater-heavy performance schedule, and the identically-outfitted "R Family Team" regularly introduced by the song "We Are Family." It's a bunch of famous gays with a bunch of normal gays and their kids and then rascals like us. Where else can Andrea McArdle ask you to come wake up her husband with "look at all the hot lesbians in your bed!" It's so gay and by gay I mean happy.

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9. The Mz Hip and Fit New York 2007 Contest

This was a two part exercise in gay-ness -- Hav was nominated for Mz Girl Nation (GirlNation hosts a gay Saturday night in NYC where everyone who's anyone goes to run into everyone they've already kissed) and Heather and I told her to do it 'cause we thought it'd be funny. It was FUNNY, obvs she won by a landslide.

I dragged my then-girlfriend to the event at Nation AND to the next event at "DUVET" (where Mz GirlNation would fight against Mz Cattyshack and etc for the "Mz Hip and Fit New York 2007" title) both populated largely by impossibly young fresh-faced Dos-Equis-chugging lesbians whooting and hollering Scores-style. We made a sign with markers. At DUVET, about 10 - 12 lesbians had to run on stage, dance, and then get voted on by the applause generated by the legions of friends they'd forced to attend. There were no speeches. There was also supposed to be no stripshows, but all the girls except Hav totally removed at least 50% of their outfits on stage. Hav was over it by this point and besides, nekkid-in-public isn't how she rolls, she's a lady from Savannah.

The first place winner had fake tits, they'd never let that shit fly on Miss America.

For some reason Haviland doesn't like flaunting this honor on all her promotional materials but I feel it should be her new nickname, like Haviland "Mz GirlNation" Stillwell. Google that, she-bitches.

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8. My Mom's "Gay" Picnics

Back in the 90's, my Mom used to host these "potlucks" for her "friends" from her "group" for "women in transition" in our backyard [I almost put "backyard" in quotation marks too, but then I realized, no, I mean, that for sure was indeed the backyard.] and try to con me into attending.

As you know, I dislike the following things: 1. outdoor eating, 2. outdoor picnics involving plastic/paper flatware/dishes and lawn chairs, 3. large gatherings of women my Mom's age, 4. doing anything at all whatsoever that my Mom wants me to do ("4" is also the reason why I was straight as an arrow for so long), 5. eating large meals at mid-day, 6. large gatherings of people I don't know, 7. large gatherings of people, 8. other people, 9. tuna salad casserole.

Mom's primo con/strategy to force my attendance was The Grill Trick. Although I'd insist I didn't want any part of the potluck, Mom knew eventually I'd be hungry (and I was, 'cause she'd moved all the food from the kitchen to the "back porch") and then, when I expressed interest in eating a grilled item she would not, per my request, permit me to wait inside for delivery of said item (she would've only had to slide open the door and pass off the burger, no biggie). Instead I was forced to go outside, defenseless save my Angsty-Depressed-Emo-Teenager Skater-Who-Doesn't-Skate cloud of hostility, and place my request directly to the grillmaster ... and then! sit and wait for preparation!

During the waiting & subsequent eating period, I'd be obligated by "manners" to meet people and consequentially listen to women in transition talk about transitional things, like civil unions and the Women's Studies department at U of M. That was really gay. Her friend Tabitha was kinda cute though.

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7. Melissa Etheridge concert in Atlantic City on July 4th, 2008

I'd never seen the Eth before and was therefore unawares that she unleashes mountains of gayness upon the crowd not only during her songs but BETWEEN songs. She basically told the story of every girlfriend she'd ever had, performed beneath a banner of Tibetian prayer flags, and called herself out for being a stalker. Real lesbians from New Jersey abounded -- women willing to miss fireworks for The Eth -- sang, swayed, cried a little, adjusted their tool-belts, etc. As you can see in the photo, Caitlin is popping her collar and Alex & I are full of passionate lesbian feelings. I love Melissa Etheridge forevs & evs.

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6. NewNowNext Awards - May 2008

A;ex & I plugged microphones into our pants pockets 'cause we had no actual outlets for them, I was sick and therefore looked like a cokehead, Tinkerbell was there in her Uh Huh Her outfit, the red carpet was actually grey, we were totally dissed by Christian Whateveriano from Project Runway but totally treated as 100% legitimate journalists by everyone else, Candice Cayne said we were "GORGE," The Dazzle Dancers got glitter on Tinkerbell's nose, Ricky signed my vintage '95 My So-Called Gay Life poster and Michelle Paradise asked Tinkerbell for her number. Our actual friends Carly & Robin work(ed at the time, in Robin's case) at Logo and therefore were present, amping up the OurChart factor. Anyhoo then I felt sleepy sloos, I'm not really good at being out late at night.

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I bet you are on the edge of your seat for Part Two yeah? January is a big month here full of excitement so you should probs put a cushion on the edge of your seat or a dildo, because there is so much fun to look forward to. Also, I clearly have a thing for befriending um, Capricorns? Birthdays - Caitlin (6th), Kelly from TLL (8th) (thank you facebook), Natalie (16th), Haviland (19th), my friend Erika from middle school (19th), Crystal (20th). OBAMA DAY on the 20th. L Word Premiere on the 18th. Also, it's fucking cold.

Sunday Top Ten: In the Place Where There is No Darkness, There is Our Sitcom.

Sunday Night, 7.1.2007, circa 11:30 p.m.:
Me: "I need to think of an idea for my Sunday Top Ten."
Carly: "Oh, you mean your Thursday Top Eight? Your Tuesday Top Six?"

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This's a dispatch from Carly & Riese's Gay Sitcom Write-a-Thon 2K7, which's been, thus far, Extremely Successful. [Aside from a brief break on Saturday night to drink and another on Sunday night to watch the Big Gay Cruise Movie with Haviland, Heather, Lainy, Jen, Craig, Janet, Layla, etc., which was actually worth it for it warmed our hearts down to their very embers. Carly's not going on the cruise, but she was a sport.]

In order to conceptualize, develop and actually write an entire sitcom in about five days, I've had to commit my mind almost entirely to this task. Therefore, I'm unable to think of anything for the Sunday Top Ten that's not at least tangentially related to our sitcom. I could do "Top 10 Reasons We're The Awesomest Sitcom-Creators Of All Time," but I don't want anyone to feel intimidated, especially you, Ilene Chaiken. Because we're going to eat your breast cancer for breakfast, and wash it down with a long tall glass of ovulation, smear it in a warm bath of BETTY--and we're gonna do all that with all our clothes ON.

Also Ilene, if you were about to pick up the phone to call and hire me, don't let the above paragraph change your mind. I'd like to remind you that there's a thin line between love and hate, and that it helps to have writers on your team who don't just sit around and validate your retarded ideas all day. You've hired plenty of amazing writers, e.g., A.M. Homes and Angela Robinson, who probs also questioned some of your "choices," so why not hire me? I'm not even amazing, so you could boss me around if you want to. I like being bossed around sometimes. Except today, when I've dispatched a great deal of the research duties on this particular Top 10 to my unpaid intern. She just sent me an email that included bullet points! Go Carlytron!

But the First Rule of Best Lesbianish Sitcom Ever Club is "NO Opinions Allowed: Except from Marie and Carly." So I can't say what it is about, really, because we can't handle opinions right now. But the first thing we did was make a list of all the things that we were not going to have in our teevee show.

SUNDAY TOP 10:
IN WHICH TEAM AWESOME CREATES A GAY TEEVEE SHOW UNLIKE ALL OTHER GAY TEEVEE SHOWS

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10. No Death

See: Dana Fairbanks Obvs on The L Word, Tara on Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Vic and the Random Gay-Bashed Boy on Queer as Folk, Doug on Workout, Sandy on ER, most lesbians in Law and Order/CSI/etc [after murdering someone clearly]. Also Jen died on Dawson's Creek and she wasn't gay but she was a total fag hag and when she had her final convo with Jack [gay!] ... Krista and I were crying like, a lot. Although we also cried all the way through Closer, and in the final musical performance at the school scene in Uptown Girls. And during our third, fourth and fifth viewings of that musical section I just mentioned from Uptown Girls.

We've got a notes sheet where we write down all of our tangential glimmers of brilliance. At the top, it reads: ALL OUR CHARACTERS HAVE BEEN GRANTED ETERNAL LIFE. Like Gilgamesh!

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9. Specifically, no Breast Cancer

See: Dana Fairbanks, obvs.

This rule's 'cause of Dana Fairbanks. Moreso, it's because of Ilene Chaiken, who lives in a deluded fantasy world of her own creation in which the only way to "tell the story" of breast cancer [She "needed" to tell this story, p.s., like maybe it came to her in a dream or something? Who knows whatevs, she's clearly completely out of her mind.] was to kill Dana. She's probably already stewing up how to sacrifice Alice to Al Queda or something. [Note to google spies: I know I've just used Al Queda and lesbian and AIDS in the same blog entry, but I swear I'm way too busy to be a terrorist. I'm writing a sitcom, obvs! That's like, the opposite of terrorism, because it lulls the people into robotic complacency. Especially a gay sitcom, because the gays are particularly pissed for obvious reasons.]

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8. No Pregnancy, Babies, or discussions of Fertility and/or Ovaries.

See: Carol & Susan on Friends, Mel & Lindsay in Queer as Folk, Bette & Tina in The L Word, Keith & David on Six Feet Under

Why? Because if I wanted to talk about my ovaries or about babies, I would have a baby. If I wanted to talk about building healthy and stable partnerships in order to best enrich the upbringing of another human person, I'd stop being a baby. But Angelica in The L Word: adorable ... though the lesbian-with-a-baby storyline is really lame, especially when partnered with a lesbian-bed-death storyline. What came first, though, the chicken or the egg? You know?

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7. No Ridiculous Bisexual Females

[Vacillating between women and men, partying like there's no tomorrow, killing people, being manipulative/insane, constantly tempted to return to heterosexuality for All the Wrong Reasons, just experimenting with a friend but really likes cock, etc.]

See: Jenny, Alice, Dylan and Tina in The L Word, Marissa on The O.C., Sarah on America's Next Top Model, Genesis, Bree, and Ruthie on The Real World, Paige on Degrassi: The Next Generation, Julia on Dirt, whatever's happening with that Aidan-Spashley love triangle on South of Nowhere, etc.

Where do I begin on this topic? Really, where? Do I begin with The Real World, L.A Law, Ally McBeal ... movies like Personal Best and Wild Things? Though homosexuals and queers of all variations've been notoriously underrepresented on television for centuries, the Sweeps Lesbian -- TV terminology for that girl who goes gay for ratings, then returns to the men America's wanted her to fuck all this time -- remains a popular staple. I've got this really revolutionary idea: what if bisexual women were just women who were sometimes attracted to women, and sometimes to men? Wouldn't that be weird?

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6. No Coming Out Stories

See: Jack on Dawson's Creek, Justin on Queer as Folk, Spencer on South of Nowhere, Dana & Jenny & Phyllis on The L Word, Ellen on Ellen, Marco on Degrassi: The Next Generation, Jessie on Once and Again, David on Six Feet Under, etc.

There's nothing wrong with coming out stories, they've just been done. And done. Much like real life, in which people come out, I guess. I don't really know because I've never "come out" to anyone. Why? Because I'm one of those annoying bisexuals mentioned in "7" who take the easy way out, and just write blogs about their primarily lesbian lifestyles and figure if anyone really wants to know, they can just read it. Or you can put it on your myspace profile or whathaveyou. For example on how well this works, see below:

"Mom also gave me an update about your life, but I found that my friend Nick gave me a way better update a week or two ago. Which is you know, funny, how a complete stranger yet loyal reader gets the dirt weeks before our Mom. Anyway I played along, Oh wow, she's in a relationship? With a girl? Wahhhht!"

-My brother Lewis, email to me, 4.11.2007

Like when Lewis came to visit in November and I was seeing/special-friending Steph and we all went out together and she consequently spent the night, it did occur to me I'd never "come out" to him but I was like, whatever, he reads my blog. Anyhow: I know what it's all about, coming out. My Mom came out to me once! So did a girl from high school when we were both on the elliptical trainers at the Upper West Side New York Sports Club. A girl from middle school, on her behalf and also another one of our best friends. And so on.

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5. No AIDS

See: Pedro in The Real World: San Francisco. Ben, Vic and Hunter in Queer as Folk, Doug on Workout.

The thing about AIDS is: it's really depressing. If you've ever befriended a forty or fifty-something gay male in NYC, you've likely heard a variation on this story: "I use to have a lover. He had AIDS. We had an apartment in the meatpacking district before it was trendy. Then my lover died of AIDS. I used to have all these friends. They died of AIDS. Now I live alone. I don't have AIDS but I have a rent-controlled apartment. Also, everyone I know is dead. From AIDS." That is heavy shit and this is a sitcom. We want people to laugh. I mean, everyone loves a good tearjerker. If you are one of those people, go rent Philadelphia. Actually, if you wanna cry like A LOT? Rent It's My Party.

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4. No Ridiculous Fashions

See: Everyone on The L Word, Samantha on Sex and the City [I'm including her moreso for her fagginess, and I mean that in the best possible way, than for her brief flirtation with lesbianism].

I just don't understand why you'd dress your characters in ugly clothes when you could dress them in cute clothes. I mean, you have a choice, and you choose incorrectly. Why?

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3. No meditation, or references to drum circles, serious relationships to yoga, chakras, sun gods/goddesses

See: We don't know if this's been anywhere but The L Word. But in real life, lesbians dig this shit.

Um, it's just boring. Also, people who aren't into it (like, clearly, us), are really skeptical and semi-caustic about their disbelief. Probs I'm just jealous that you have like, a goddess to bless your chakra and unify your holy spirit or whatevs, and I'm just like "What's up. My mind is racing right now and it won't stop. Try to quiet the waves of my overactive brain. I need a drink." Mostly, we're bothered that Bette's entire meditation-hoo-ha storyline was not only completely out of character ["Of course. it's a technique of self-help people like him. You spout enough pre-packaged wisdom, there's bound to be something for everybody. you know, i find something for me in the Vogue horoscope, too, that doesn't mean it's not bullshit." -Bette, to Kit, Re: TOE, Season Two] and boring, but was crafted specifically to hide Jennifer Beals' pregnancy and for no other reason. Isn't that dumb? Couldn't they just give her weird outfits like they did to SJP? Oh wait--they did.

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2. No Terrible Theme Songs, Specifically no BETTY.

See: "The Way That We Live," The L Word, "Spunk," Queer As Folk, "Things Just Keep Getting Better," Queer Eye for the Straight Guy.

I mean seriously. I may have mentioned this before, but I believe the following things could create a better theme song than 'The Way That We Live": the sound of iced tea being stirred, an angry kitten, your mom, my ass, Milli Vanilli, a 6th grade recorder student group, a beached whale, a non-beached whale, the sound of Shane banging her head against the wall, the sound of people fucking, the sound of people crying, Rock-a-Pella, that guy who sang Ricky Martin on The American Idol Show, me.

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1. Sex and Partial Nudity Whenever Possible
See: Nothin', Til Now.

Why? Because sex is hot. And also, kinda funny. Like, much much funnier than dying or chakras. People're naked and rolling around sticking their fingers and tongues in each other. That's really funny. And what's amazing about it is that we humans've managed to transform it into something that sucks genuine out of ridiculous and then wears it like happiness ... which's why it's fun to have on the teevee. Every now and then, e.g., when appropriate. Like don't cut away just when things get good. Pump up some Shiny Toy Guns and get it on. Or if you're just chillin' in your room, what's with all the clothing? Fashion show? Because we're not gonna have violence, you know? Just love. Because that's the L Word, weirdos. Like, for your friends, mostly [because I get by with a little help from my friends], but for your family too and for life itself, and then for the stories we tell about it. The End.

Ha. Obvs it's late and my brain has dissolved completely and is no longer responsible for it's contents.

Sunday Top Ten: The Gayest Shit EVER

So I rallied the troops (and ESPECIALLY these guys) to heckle the people at OurChart.com to invite me to be a Guestbian blogger. That was really fun, like running for lesbian student council. Except now I don't know what to write about. I wish I had a baby. Then I could be like, "Guess what my baby did today?" I suggested to TB that I write about bad bi stereotypes, but she expressed concern that diving in with the bi topic would be "like making a giant bullseye and putting it on your forehead."

Me: "I think they write about like, politics, and like, tools? Dating, I think? Oooo! I'll just write about how much I like you!"
TB: "That'd be really gay."
Me: "That'd be like, the gayest shit ever."
(pause)
Me: "OMIGOD! I'm just gonna write the gayest shit ever!"
TB: "Totally dude, just do the GAYEST SHIT EVER. Like, candles, cuddling and shit--"

SUNDAY TOP TEN: THE GAYEST SHIT EVER

10. Processing Emotions

Lede: "I just have all these feelings, you know?" OR "So this morning, in my bed, where I was sitting with five other big beautiful dykes, eating organic farm-bred pomegranates and Krispy Kremes, we got to talking about feelings. Then we decided that instead of talking about feelings, we would try some sexual healing, so we started taking our clothes off, but carefully, while checking in with everyone to be sure we were all still feeling OK about the orgy that was certain to ensue once all our breasts were out there in the open--"

Reality: Feelings? Do people still have those? Who has time? The first rule of Riese Club, don't talk about feelings at Riese Club.


9. Cats
Lede: "Many women look to other people or to Fiddle-Faddles for comfort in times of need. I just rub my face in the face of my cat and make cooing noises, almost as if I too were an animal. I lose myself in the ecstasy of allergenic cat dander and tuna-flavored cat saliva. But then the other day, I was playing with my girlfriend when Mr. Fiddle jumped onto her bare ass--"

Reality: I hate cats. "Hate" is a strong word: I'm allergic to cats, and also cat-loving is just not in my disposition. I can't be all ooh-ahh about this little furball lazy thing that pees in a box of smelly gravel stuff. I've liked some kittens though. They're cute and sort of innocent, and haven't yet grown up to be lazy fat hairy dumb fucks like their parents. I don't like when cats jump on me, and I don't like it when a person has a cat-haired apartment. I do, however, think Garfield is okay, but mostly as a vehicle for Odie. I'm just skeptical of the whole cat "thing," that's all.


8. Womyn's Studies/Herstory

Lede: "This weekend is the big march against [whatever]! Papi and I are making really big posters right now. Papi thinks it would really make a better point if I were to get naked and paint [whatever political slogan] across my breasts, to reclaim the motherland, you know? So I said, Papi, whatever it takes to get the point across to the Republican assholes, I'll do it, and she said, stop wasting time, the patriarchy is gaining speed as you talk and talk and so I took off my shirt (no bra, I burned them all)--"

Reality: I admit I totes love Women's Studies and probably would have studied it as a minor if I hadn't been so focused on getting the hell out of Dodge (A faster feat with only one major). But I need to save my energy for when it really matters: when you're stuck in a conversation with an ignorant douchebag who has subscribed to Girls Gone Wild since like, before VCRs or Spring Break were even invented.


7. Babies and Ovulation and Other Things Related to the Miracle of Life

Lede: "This morning, Sue-Ann and I took baby Radclyffe to the playground. She had her first word and walked around in silly circles. Then this twattish Stepford-looking woman came over to ask if me and Sue-Ann were sisters. I said no, we were both Radclyffe's mother. She didn't believe me, so I took Sue-Ann's pants off and pulled out the turkey baster from our diaper bag and went to town--"

Reality: On a Maturity scale of 1 to 10, I am closer to "infant" than "infant caretaker."


6. Tools
Lede: "I was at Home Depot this morning getting some screwdrivers and hammers and chainsaws to hang from my new toolbelt when I realized it was time to do what Jessalyn and I had always dreamed of doing: turn the basement into a rec room! But first, Jessalyn suggested we do a little 'power drilling'--"

Reality: Um, that's what ex-boyfriends are for. JK. Lo used to be like "You're such a lesbian Bob Vila today!" when I would fix things around the house. Yeah, fix things. With tools. Mostly just a hammer. I use hammers for lots of things. Like the Indigo Girls say, "I gotta get out of bed and get a hammer and a nail, learn how to use my hands ..." etc.


5. Cuddling

Lede: "At the end of a long day at work, there's nothing I love more than curling into the bulky arms of my girlfriend Fanny and watching old episodes of Dante's Cove on here! on demand. That's all, just cuddling. We used to have sex, but then we decided we'd rather just cuddle."
Reality: Cuddling is nice. It's lovely. It really is. However, the best part of cuddling is when you realize you're sort of like, rubbing up against someone's leg, and that feels good, like maybe better than cuddling? Like, A LOT better?

Cuddle sounds a lot like curdle. Like curdled milk, which is bad, and makes you sick. But not sick like crabs or something, which you can get from actual sex, so that's one thing about cuddling that's better. Also, it takes less energy and is, from time to time, not entirely unpleasant.

Also, anyone who calls it "cudds" never gets to cuddle again ever.


4. Drama
Lede:

Dina calls me sobbing: "Riese, I just can't take it anymore! It's so--" She hiccups. My phone beeps. Alicia's on the other line. I ignore it. Dina continues: "Riese, I don't know what to dooooooo--hang on a sec, I'm getting cigarettes--"

"Dina, Tell me you aren't crying at the store?"

"Of course I'm crying at the store," she exhales. "I can't talk in the house!" She wails. I hear a cash register chime.

"What should I doooooo--" she begins again. My computer beeps. Alicia's IMing me: I'M COMING OVER. CAN'T TAKE IT.

"Do you think this looks hot?" Leisha, my straight (and often barely clothed) roommate who I used to sleep with before I met my girlfriend, asks. She's behind me, wearing my dress, rubbing lotion on her legs but I don't have time to think, because just as I'm turning to Alicia's latest message and listening to Dina sob on speaker phone, I notice an email from a this hot mess of a girl claiming that I'm a heartless bitch for refusing to acknowledge the love that allegedly passed between us when we hooked up TWICE about ten lifetimes ago.

I'M NOT COMING TO YR BIRTHDAY DINNER. Alicia types. NOT IF DINA IS GOING.

"Tell me if you like this dress, please?" Leisha puts one hand on her hip and the other on my arm, yanking me to her, blocking my view of her dress because when she pulls me up against her, her mouth is on my cheek because I turn my head just in time and--in the background Dina is still crying on speaker phone, the AIM is ding-ding-dinging and then, that loud buzz from downstairs that my girlfriend is here and so I tear myself away from Leisha's hot fast unstable energy and rip-roar down the stairs like Road Runner and thrust the door open like a happy hostess and grab my girlfriend's neck--

The Reality: Usually I somehow get involved in the drama in the start (sometimes that's my fault, sometimes it isn't) and then I run away really fast and say that I don't do drama and leave everyone else to deal.


3. Knocking Balls Around
Lede: "I've been playing softball for the Northampton Peaches in the Labia Majora League for 10 years but we didn't know real competition till last Friday when we faced off against the Providence Lady Lighting. It brought back memories of rough n' tumble rugby matches in college, which brought back memories of slipping my hand between the waistband of my co-captain's uniform shorts and the taut skin of her stomach and plowing my fist inside her--"

The Reality: If Elliptical Training could be a competitive sport, I'd kick some ass. Or if like, I hadn't stopped playing basketball and soccer in favor of going to boarding school to study poetry. But I think it's sexy when girls (and boys, but this is supposed to be an all-gay-themed blog, right? avoiding the bullseye, etc?) play sports.


2. Singing Along to the Indigo Girls on road trips

The Lede: Robyn pulled her iPod from the pocket of her cargo shorts and hooked it up to the stereo. "This shit is the JAM!" She said, cranking up her all-time faves from Swamp Ophelia and Nomads, Indians and Saints. "I hope "Get out the Map" is on this mix!" Jo yelled from the backseat, where her head was wedged neatly between her girlfriend's legs. How long till my soul gets it right? I sang, full of glee like a schoolgirl.

The Reality: I actually am considering writing about how much I love the Indigo Girls. And how much I always have, and always will. There's no joke here. I really do love the Indigo Girls.

Obviously, I need ideas, ASAP.



1. Watching "L Word" Highlight Video Montages on YouTube at 2am When You Are Supposed to Be Sleeping or Finishing Your Blog or Talking on the Phone for Three Hours Like a Teenager or Writing One of the 30,000 Emails I Owe or Whatever
The Lede: I am officially the biggest loser on earth.

The Reality: Like, times ten million. OK mostly I've become fascinated with this one girl, Amnesia, who has made 54--FIFTY FUCKING FOUR--music video tributes to Shane and Carmen. She has set clips of this sexy duo to the tune of her favorite terrible songs (e.g., "Lips of an Angel"). I don't know how she found this much footage. There must be repeats, because I don't think all four seasons of this show would actually equal the length of 54 bad pop songs and I refuse to watch another just to see if like, there were some deleted scenes that I missed or something?

Okay.
Maybe just one more.

God, this is the gayest shit EVER.

From the Rosie Cruise: I Believe that Children are the Future

I have no desire whatsoever to go home.

Aside from the overpriced drinks and a shocking lack of Polly-O string cheese and the fact that we can't seem to track down any psychedelic drugs, I could kinda sail like this for probably at least another week.

Seriously: beautiful children. Real love! The Republicans need to come here and see the most multicultural and well-behaved kids on the goddamn planet. Even though I sometimes wish they would put some duct tape over their mouths and get out of the hot tub.

Hav and I are in love with Susan Powter, who kicked our asses in yoga this morning and calls us "THE YOUNG ONES" and says things like "I don't care about your issues, I don't care about your trauma, every woman in this room has been traumatized and if you haven't than you're BLIND!" and "NO MORE refined white sugar, NO MORE refined white flour, ENOUGH refined white men and NO MORE OF THAT refined White House!"

We soak in the hot tub and lie in the sun and look at mountains and pick at kitschy t-shirts in Alaskan gift shops, eat vegetables in the dining hall (it's like that, like college), and hang out with the other performers Hav knows and we try, relentlessly, to get a server to truly bring the dressing on the side. Rosie is hilarious and Kathy Griffin is AWESOME and Cyndi Lauper rocked (and our 80's outfits, of course, ROCKED) and Jill Sobule was so fun and the Broadway singers here are totally breathtaking and we'd like to stalk Melissa Etheridge, but she pretty much wrote the book on stalking, I mean the CD, and we think she's holed up with her preggers wife.

There is so so so much to say, but I want to wait til I get home and internet doesn't cost 75 cents a minute and we can hook up Hav's camera because we have remarkable photographs and I don't have to just take random ones from the website.


In the meantime....

Lets do an FAQ:

q: What are you girls--like, 19?
a: Haviland is 25 and I am 24. We are not, in fact, 19, though we are aware that we still wear the clothing of young vibrant college girls, which is because we are beautiful, really, just gorgeous.

q: Are you like, the child of a gay? Or are you gay?
a: I am the child of a gay and I myself--as Matty once said: "half a fag." But I am here with Haviland, not with my "mommies" and Haviland is not the child of a gay, but she is a gay, and also a star.

q: So are you guys, you know, like, together?
a: Um...uh....we don't um... (stutter, look at each other, laugh, titter, smile)...uh, kinda? we don't really uh...know? Um, friendster might say uh, "it's complicated"? Um, whatever? I mean, open? Sorta not really but kinda?

q: How do you get so skinny?
a: Cocaine, lettuce and long walks on the beach.

q: How tall are you (to me)?
a: 5'10.
Follow-up them: Wow! I always wanted to be tall.
Follow-up me:If you can dream it, then you can do it. I'd like a pony and another drink please thanks.

q: Do you want a drink?
a: Yes, yes I do.
Hav's a: No thanks.
My a: I'll have hers. Honey, get a Corona.

q: Were you singing last night? (to Haviland)
a: Yes.
Follow up: You were wonderful! Just wonderful!

q: Do you know what restaurants are open?
a: How do you feel about petrified cheeseburgers?

q: Are you going on any excursions?
a: As much as an $800 helicopter ride to the glaciers or a salmon bake or a kayaking lesson sounds terrif, I'm facing a truly monumental mini-bar bill and we don't want anything to get in the way of our search for Diet Dr.Pepper.

q: What time is it?
a: There is no time.

Let me leave you with another quote from our favorite woman on earth ("I'm not a doctor, I'm a WITCH!"), Susan Powter:

"I'm your worst nightmare. I was born with a very good brain and a very nice ass."