WHOA! BEST VALENTINE'S DAY EVER!!!!
My friend Heather sent me candy in the mail, it gave me a big smile when I went to check my mailbox in the morning. And when I checked my answering machine messages, my mom called and asked me to be her valentine. Awwww! And thank you for everyone who responded to my last journal, it made me feel a lot better. I think I just needed to vent and write about it a bit.
Anyway, I hung out with my newfound gay man friend Patrick and we talked about all the shit that bothers us about the gay community. We talked about how neither of us fits the stereotypes (i.e., i'm too punky and ravery to be a dyke, and he's too boyish and emo to be a gay man). In his words "God, I don't like Cher or talking with a lisp, OK?"
I am America's #1 fag hag.
Anyway, we made a late night run to the Castro to eat some tofu burgers and then we decided to infiltrate The Cafe, SF's largest gay bar. The place was PACKED! Apparently I now look so used and jaded that they don't even ask any questions when they see my fake ID.
The DJ was off the hook, and there was a huge Valentine's Day party there. Some guy that looked like the comic book guy from The Simpsons kept caressing me and Pat helped me escape. I was nearly trampled on the dancefloor since the place was so full, and a really cute femmey butch stepped up, blocked my oppressors and said, "Let the lady pass" and all these chicks started yelling "Little lady! Whooooo!" Thereby turning me all shades of red under the strobe. I realized tonight that there really are a lot of dykes I haven't met yet, I just need to hurry up and accelerate this month and a half so I get old enough to party with the big girls.
THE FUNNIEST PART OF THE STORY HAPPENED WHEN WE TRIED TO LEAVE THE CAFE.
Avid readers of my journal will remember that in November, some bi chick that wanted to use me for exhibition purposes made out with me at my regular club. I decided to never call her again because she was a total airhead and besides all that, she was just using me so guys would watch. I hadn't kissed anyone in three months so I figured what the hell.
SHE HIT ON ME AND FORGOT WE MADE OUT TWO MONTHS AGO!
I was outside after they closed, looking for Pat. She came up to me, heavy and ready to vomit. She slurred, "I know this girl." and I said, "Oh no, I don't believe we've ever met." "You're hot." She said and I looked away, uninterested. "Thanks." "Are you a lesbian?" She asked. "Yeah." "Can I get your number?" I told her my name was Veronica and she proceeded to fumble with her phone several times, holding herself steady against the wall and ready to vomit all over the sidewalk. Pat showed up in the nick of time and we ran as she nearly hurled.
I had the best night ever, this is the third night i've been clubbing this week! It's time to kick back with some Vice City, good ol' fashioned mafia crime commitin', and VANILLA SOYMILK as i'm now addicted to it.
I LOVE YOU!
My friend Heather sent me candy in the mail, it gave me a big smile when I went to check my mailbox in the morning. And when I checked my answering machine messages, my mom called and asked me to be her valentine. Awwww! And thank you for everyone who responded to my last journal, it made me feel a lot better. I think I just needed to vent and write about it a bit.
Anyway, I hung out with my newfound gay man friend Patrick and we talked about all the shit that bothers us about the gay community. We talked about how neither of us fits the stereotypes (i.e., i'm too punky and ravery to be a dyke, and he's too boyish and emo to be a gay man). In his words "God, I don't like Cher or talking with a lisp, OK?"
I am America's #1 fag hag.
Anyway, we made a late night run to the Castro to eat some tofu burgers and then we decided to infiltrate The Cafe, SF's largest gay bar. The place was PACKED! Apparently I now look so used and jaded that they don't even ask any questions when they see my fake ID.
The DJ was off the hook, and there was a huge Valentine's Day party there. Some guy that looked like the comic book guy from The Simpsons kept caressing me and Pat helped me escape. I was nearly trampled on the dancefloor since the place was so full, and a really cute femmey butch stepped up, blocked my oppressors and said, "Let the lady pass" and all these chicks started yelling "Little lady! Whooooo!" Thereby turning me all shades of red under the strobe. I realized tonight that there really are a lot of dykes I haven't met yet, I just need to hurry up and accelerate this month and a half so I get old enough to party with the big girls.
THE FUNNIEST PART OF THE STORY HAPPENED WHEN WE TRIED TO LEAVE THE CAFE.
Avid readers of my journal will remember that in November, some bi chick that wanted to use me for exhibition purposes made out with me at my regular club. I decided to never call her again because she was a total airhead and besides all that, she was just using me so guys would watch. I hadn't kissed anyone in three months so I figured what the hell.
SHE HIT ON ME AND FORGOT WE MADE OUT TWO MONTHS AGO!
I was outside after they closed, looking for Pat. She came up to me, heavy and ready to vomit. She slurred, "I know this girl." and I said, "Oh no, I don't believe we've ever met." "You're hot." She said and I looked away, uninterested. "Thanks." "Are you a lesbian?" She asked. "Yeah." "Can I get your number?" I told her my name was Veronica and she proceeded to fumble with her phone several times, holding herself steady against the wall and ready to vomit all over the sidewalk. Pat showed up in the nick of time and we ran as she nearly hurled.
I had the best night ever, this is the third night i've been clubbing this week! It's time to kick back with some Vice City, good ol' fashioned mafia crime commitin', and VANILLA SOYMILK as i'm now addicted to it.
I LOVE YOU!
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If I ever get married it'll be a loveless sham for appearances to a lesbian best friend