A brief...from Alice

Yes, Woolf is an angel.
Yes, my aunt is eccentric. But, have you met me...probably not, but its proof I am really from this family.
Yes, there is an Irish man here, who yes, loves the Red Sox. But! He has a great gay man impression, so spot on I am convinced that in a past life, or in the past of this life, was gay. Flaming, glittery, cock sucking gay.
and yes, I am excited to see my beau.


But, Woolf can't read Pepsi bottles. In her attempt to buy a diet pepsi, she actually purchased a diet cherry vanilla pepsi. It tasted and smelled like baby vomit (yes, we know what baby vomit tastes like, we were babies once after all. I actually flashed back to diapers and wanted to cry out for someone to hold me).

I will be off the grid for a few days, in the mountians, with my ENTIRE family. No worries dear readers, I will have interwebs, so I will post away about trout fishing, getting too drunk, how awesome my cousins are and all the drama that only my family can create. (A few years ago my dad and uncle got into a fist fight, broke wine bottles and threatened to "cut a bitch". No lie)

Now we are off to a straight bar, with my cousins, to see my beau... FUN WILL BE HAD.

ps. Woolf I love you always and forver for being a safe driver and adventuring to the great republican city of Colorado Springs with me. At least if we get hate crimed, we will get hc'd together.

Our big adventure

First off, don't fret. I won't be posting twice in one day too often. That's Alice's bag, baby. (Which by the way she is carrying a clutch tonight, and its leopard printed).

ANYWHO,

Being the generous person I am, I packed up Alice and myself in my convertible and drove to the airport to pick up her aunt. We then proceeded to drive 1.5 hours to the Springs. Mormon/Christian/Army/Airforce/Focusonthefamilyriden Colorado Springs.

Yes. I really am that good of a friend.

Upon arrival to her family's house, I see Boston Red Sox paraphenalia. College in MA means I have a mean love for the BoSox. We enter the house. And there is an Avon/Tupperware party going on. I can't lie. This actually happened. Fifteen people are getting their face on with eye pads soaked in some level of toxic goo in hopes of staving off age's deadly fingers. Tough cookies. No goo is going to fix that shit.

We then enter the garage and proceed to chain smoke with the Bostonian who was born and bred in Ireland. True Irish Boston boy. Alice feels like this is the PERFECT time to make gay jokes (because, duh it is) and show EVERYONE our blog.

Now if you haven't figured out yet, this is a bit covert. But here we are, drinking wine with her TRIP of a family and they are reading about our lesbionic homo-tastic lives.

I'm not amused.

And now, the two of us are piling into the big red truck (belonging to the Bostonian, duh) and headed to the local bar. Straight bar. To see Alice's beau. You see, that's the ONLY reason I was this nice. Because since the Beau has left, Alice has been decidedly despondant and addicted to whiskey.

So I left my NGFGF (EnGuffGuff) who decided today that she was ready to drop the EnGuff and just be the Guff (who didn't see that coming from a mile away? Not this broad) and I took Alice to Colorado Springs, in rush hour, with her eccentric aunt to make her happy.

There. Proof I'm an angel.

See you in the morning lovelies.

Advice from Woolf

1. Listen to Alice.

Seriously. Those are some good tidbits of information. I know I have suffered from the hands of these things many times. In my opinion the most important things she mentioned are not all lesbians are going to transition, and the butch femme dichotomy aren't for everyone. My Not Girlfriend Girlfriend (NGFGF) also has suffered from these two things.

On another note, if you haven't heard already Proposition 8 *coughhatecough* was overturned. I would love to write something beautiful about it, but honestly I am just so happy and overwhelmed that I could jump up and down. So I will leave with you that.

Advice from Alice

I am probably not the best person to get advice from, I mean my past is sordid and is a tangle of failed relationships and burned bridges. But, out of the glowing embers I have discovered a few things (and in case you haven't noticed, I love making lists)... so here is a list of things I have learned about being a lesbian, in her 20s who is just trying to find her way.

(I will number with Roman Numerals just to keep you guys on your little toes... and because I need the practice using them)

I. If you are going to cancel plans with someone because you don't want to see them (for any number of reasons, but mostly because they like you and you don't like them back) always do it when the sun is up. Otherwise, it will seem like you are canceling because you are drunk and that you don't care about their feelings. In general, the day time is a better time to make someone feel like you are avoiding them like that bubonic plague.

II. In conjunction with canceling in the day time, it's better to do it over the phone, with your actual voice box and not via text. The reason should be clear, but some of us ladies still need to remember to actually pick up the phone. Have some integrity.

III. Never assume that two people are dating, getting hot and heavy or simply benefiting from each other's naked company. It makes things awkward and forces those two people to have to have "the talk". That is always uncomfortable when it is brought on by other people.

IV. Not all lesbians LOVE Ani the way you do, so please don't act like you are a better pussy licker because you know every song she has ever written by heart.

V. Lesson number four also applies to Tegan and Sara, Melissa Etheridge, Melissa Ferrick, Portishead, and Chris Pureka.

VI. Not all lesbians like softball. (this lesson is mostly for the straighties out there who think we all like to whack balls with big sticks and then run like hell). So please don't invite a homo to a game unless you know for a fact that they adore the sport, otherwise they feel like you may judge their gayness when they politely decline (see number one) so they will feel obligated to go and subsequently hate every second of it.

VII. Just because two gay ladies are hanging out it doesn't mean they are bumping bagels. I am gay but I can have friends who are women who like women and I don't have to be attracted to them. We are not all incestuous (in the sense that we become each other's family) and we can platonically cuddle with our friends and not have it be sexual.

VIII. There is no man, so please don't who is the man in the relationship. We are lesbians, so there is no man. And no, you and your boyfriend can't join in.

IX. We may be called carpet munchers, but some of us prefer linoleum.

X. The butch/femme dichotomy is not for everyone. I may be in a dress today, but tomorrow I will be pants, will you still like me then? Please stop assuming because I wear girly clothes some days that I like girls in carharts.

XI. Not all lesbians want to become bois. Please don't think that the andro girls out there are going to bind and take T. Yes, some do but just as many (if not more) don't. (I personally get a little flustered every time I see an andro girl. Keep it up ladies...mmm)

XII. There is such a thing as gaydar. I have it and I use it, well.

XIII. I may be a lesbo with a guitar, but I am not into granola or hearing about wind power (sorry Woolf).

XIV. Nope, not all lesbians want to turn someone. So please don't get your thong in a bunch when I say you look nice today.

XV. There is a difference between queer, gay and lesbian. If someone says they are queer, its rude to say they are gay/lesbian. Also, if you are going to hate speak at me, I prefer if you came up with something better than dyke, fag, homo, etc. Those are old and out played. Lets get creative. Make me laugh a little inside at your creativity.

XVI. We call each other family for a reason. Not only is it fun to say in a super gay way (faaamillly), but because a lot of us loose our blood family when we come out, the community steps in and takes care of us. So ladies, please remember all those "baby gays" out there may need us, the way we need the older generation. We are the only support system some people have, so come on...WE ARE FAMILY, I GOT ALL MY SISTERS WITH ME! (sing it girls!)

That's it. That's my advice.

Pretty good life lessons, right?

Maybe if we are lucky, one of these days Woolf will offer up some advice. I mean, she is the brains behind this operation. I'm just another pretty face.

Taco Tuesday

Hi, Alice here.

I fell off the radar.

Sorry.

It was only for a day, please forgive me!

My comeback is epic...

TACO TUESDAY.

yep.

tacos.

lesbians.

other kinds of tacos.

tequila...

If I survive I will tell you all about it.

No predictions this time,

but if you don't hear from me for a while, please have Woolf call my mom and tell her that I love her.

Happy Shark Week and Taco Tuesday.

ps. Sunday was less exciting that I thought it would be and I am still disappointed by how adult we all acted. My beau was the sweetest thing to wake up next too and we splashed in a fountain Monday in a local park and got yelled at by a park employee.

Last night

First off, let me explicate. I (Woolf), may be a chapstick-only-wearing-lesbian by day, but by night I'm a no-holds-barred-I-lived-in-NYC-too-long-not-to-wear-crazy-makeup type of lady. And despite my tendency to be outdoorsy and crunchy, I am enough city I know how to party. (Thankyouverymuch!)

Last night was no exception. Alice, her beau, myself, and my turquoise eyeliner made our way to Vinyl. (The place to see and be seen in Denver on a Sunday, duh). Now fair reader, if you aren't a social butterfly or a Denverite you are probably thinking. Dancing and drinking on a Sunday?

Yes.

Every. Sunday. On a rooftop.

Ok. Back to the story.

We made it to Vinyl. There was no bloodbath. There may have been uber skeletons in the closet with a few people, and even more moments of heart to heart with others. But in general. Our crew was calm, cool, collected. Shocked, I'm sure. (That makes two of us).

So there you have it. Mayhaps Alice has a different story, but as far as I can tell, everyone behaved and Pinnochio didn't show which meant far less blood baths than initially thought out. WOW. Now that is a boring assed Sunday. We'll make sure to tell our crew that low drama nights do not make interesting blogging.

(Oh and blogosphere....Alice and her beau are sofreakingadorableitmakesmewanttovomit)

Call me Miss Cleo

It's Sunday. Not only is it Sunday, but it is also the start of Shark Week, which means two things:

1. I (Alice) will watch a lot of Discovery Channel and be obsessed with Sharks for the next 7 days.

and 2. I will take my behaviors and mirror those of sharks, complete with shark attacks and primal pack mentality.

Today is a perfect day for these behaviors to come out. You see, a few weeks ago there was some serious drama (but when isn't there?) and I lost a close friend due to her behavior, we shall call her Pinocchio (because she is a liar, if you didn't figure that out on your own).

Anyways, Pinocchio lied about her intentions with someone we will call Paris Hilton (because she is the center of attention and the drama). Paris and Pinocchio eventually started seeing eachother (such an attractive pairing) and the truth about the lies came to the surface. There were lies told about the lies and lies told about me (yeah, I was LIVID to say the least). To make matters worse, the girl I am seeing is Paris' bff. AWKWARD.

The culmination of the past few weeks will take place tonight...You see, Paris, Pinocchio, Ellen the Generous (who is Pinocchio's recent ex and my close friend), MoHo (who is my beau's ex girlfriend and is besties with Paris and who is dating Ellen), my beau and I will all BE AT THE SAME PLACE. Recap: Paris, Pinocchio, Ellen, MoHo, my Beau, and I will all be at the same place. Oh, and this place is a rooftop that serves booze.

I feel like the show "I was attack by a shark and survived" will be recreated tonight. I am definitely not wearing white, I don't want blood stains on my clothes.

I would like to take a moment and make a few predictions for the evening, feel free to think of me as the lesbian Miss Cleo.

1. My beau and I won't make it out of the house, due to lack of clothing.

2. Pinocchio's nose will be too big to fit in her car, so she can't come.

3. Everyone shows up and we all act like we don't care (I'm SO good at fake smiles)

4. Everyone shows up and we all have a massive orgy, fuel by awkward tension and anger (definitely would happen if this were porn)

5. I get too liquored up and run my mouth, with no one there to save me, I start a drunken fist fight with Pinocchio and break her big nose. (never gonna happen because I can't fight, but I can run my mouth, so maybe parts of it will happen)

6. Everyone shows up and tries to make things better, but I am a stubborn fuck and don't buy any of. (can you say silent treatment?)

7. Me, my beau, MoHo, Ellen and Woolf (yes Woolf will be there, because she will FINALLY be back) will have a dance party and not invite the 2 P's

8. I will be forced to dance fight Pinocchio for my honor and will subsequently win and she will shamed back into hiding. (I have some fierce dance moves, complete with rude hand gestures)

9. I stay home and watch Shark Week premiers. I begin pretending I am a Hammerhead and I can bite the heads off of people, then I arrive late, in character, and proceed to tell people how I really feel.

10. None of this happens and I blog about it all tomorrow.

Happy Shark Week.