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Saturday, September 11, 2004

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Well, I asked a girl out. I’m sure you’ll all be glad to know that lonely Leticia has come out of her shell long enough to look pouty and ask, "will you go out with me?" and then run in terror, all except for the run in terror part.

So, what is the significance of this? Well, you ought to know why I (skies) haven’t been (of) posting in the (arcadia) past few days, and since the true answer is so unforgivable that I can only provide it using subliminal messages, I’ll give you a second one.

What the hell was the impetus behind my last post? Well, you should know that I was going to write "boys." I really was going to say that (I’ve even gotten sick of the word "boys," this internal drama has gone on so long. From now on, the condescending female term for the other team as far as I’m concerned will be fhqwhgads) I had finally learned to accept it in myself that I am heterosexual and thus back in God’s good graces as far as the Christian Coalition was concerned.

Well, something got fucked up.

Yeah, it practically wrote itself. You see, I’ve been engaged (I’ve explained this to Brielle, but nobody else) in a long-standing battle with myself over who it is that I like. Now, any reasonable person would take a good look at me, or even a cursory look at me, or even just glance up my skirt and say that I’m a true-blue bisexual, as bisexual as a three-pronged plug or Digimon slash fiction. But! You have to understand, the You-Like-Girls and You-Like-Fhqwhgads camps are divided quite evenly into exclusive sets of neurons, each trying to humiliate each other every damn minute when I’m trying to think, but especially—especially—when I’m trying to do math homework.

So each side loves to bring up its own respective evidence towards their particular agenda. Dreams, random glances, everything is fair game as far as the Trial of Leticia’s Sexual Preference is concerned. And the reason I can’t just lay down my respective arms, call it quits, and start calling myself "bisexual" and shaving only one armpit is because the two halves of me are entirely separate identities and good Lord, they’re tearing me apart piece by piece. I can’t really explain it fully here, but they’re using my everyday thoughts as a battleground and it’s wreaking havoc on my emotions. I wold cry if my ability to produce tears weren’t limited to Pokémon episodes.

---

I put a lot of stock in dreams. I write them all down, I analyse them for possible analogies, I pray to my Dream Goddess that she will grant me wisdom with which to approach my life. So when I had a dream in which I realized that I absolutely had to ask this one girl out, I did the only thing that a good old Leticia would do; I carried my dream advice into my life.

Of course, my dreams are never wrong. For instance, I’ve been playing Advance Wars so much, I had a dream about it the other night that insisted that I needed to retreat one of my three armies and strengthen it. Being that my personal dreamworld is my only clear look at my brain’s true processing power, I take its advice at face value.

So I asked her out. She looks at me funny. I look at myself funny, in a somewhat abstract fashion. She says no. I am crushed, by not totally downtrodden.
Actually, I feel plain fucking stupid, and the You-Like-Fhqwhgads neurons laugh all the way to the bank. But, no matter; Luscious Lesbian Leticia will strike back with a vengeance.

But then, I got back to my game of Advance Wars; but not only did I decide not to retreat my army since they had gained a narrow foothold in the area south of the factory that I was attacking; this particular army was instrumental in winning the game, and I’m positive that the Advance Wars coach bought them all fruit smoothies once it was over.

Oh, fuckberries.

---

Now, I’m pretty sure I have my head on straight. It’s not that I don’t like women; they are breathtakingly beautiful, and someday, I want one as my pet. (Mua ha ha.) But I am, unfortunately, undeniably heterosexual. I really do think I’m going to fall in love with a fhqwhgad; but I am going to be smart this time, and rather than ignite the long-standing sexual tensions happening between my lesbian half and my straight half, I’m going to be silent and let them work it out. With any luck, the two halves will fall in love, and that will create such a bizarre feedback loop that they will explode, and I will get back to my math homework. Hurrah!

(You know how, in those cartoons, they would always have an angel person and a devil person? Well, it’s like that for me, only the devil person is not really a devil, just a sexy butch lesbian. Sexy sexy butch lesbian. They have a lot of appeal.)

(I have two friends who are both stumpy butch lesbians and they love me a lot and I had a fantasy where they were making me into a soup and it makes me laugh to think about—oops! I just broke my embargo on masturbation fantasies. Ooooh, that felt good to write.... let’s see, just right now I had an imaginary boy massage my back while I watched TV...)
Comments:
Sooo.... WHAT HAPPENED? what did she say??

Enquiring minds.
 
What happened is... she looked at me funny.

That's pretty much it.

A few awkward moments later, she says... "not right now."

You know what? If you're going to reject me, at least do it somewhat respectfully and not in a way that gives me stomach pains for days because I think I made you run away and cry because of the scary, scary lesbians.

$&%@^(!
 
I really don't think that in the last ten years, lesbians, at least, have been really that judgemental about bizexuality. Ok, a long time ago, they were appallingly dismissive, but these days I rather thought most women would accept sexuality as at least fluid - over - a - lifetime.

Vanessa
http://upsaid.com/sarsparilla
http://angelfire.com/blog/sarsparilla/blog
 
"I really don't think that in the last ten years, lesbians, at least, have been really that judgemental about bizexuality."

Oh, I think they have been very judgemental about bizzzzexuality, beeyotch. Word! (sorry, couldn't resist...)

Yes, I definately know what you mean. I'm just paranoid. (Although I think you may have misread my remarks; I said that I was afraid I made _her_ run away because of a scary lesbian in particular, meaning, me. Sorry if that confused anybody.)
 
I'm sure you'll meet someone soon :)
Look on the bright side: Being bisexual you've got twice as much choice as you would have being straight or lesbian ;)
 
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