Well, long-time no blog!
Another semester has started for this college student, I am still searching for a job, and life has certainly gotten into the way of my blogging.
For that, I apologize, my lovely readers.
Two real life followers have begged me, in person, that they desire more blog posts.
My hiatus is officially over, I guess.
Currently I am sitting in a rest stop along the NYS thruway, killing some time before a doctor’s appointment. I am sitting in the back booth in the food court area, people watching, and I am forever amazed by the amount of lesbians I see.
Now, I am a lesbian, so it shouldn’t come to a surprise to me that there are more of us out there. But I guess in my daily haunts, lesbians, besides myself and my girl and a few others, are few and far in-between. It always, without fail, brings a smile to my face whenever I see us lesbians out and about, strutting our gayness.
So here I am, just sitting in this booth looking like a lonely loser, when two lesbians sit across from me. One was clearly one of those “under the radar” girls, or lacking the stereotypical lesbians appearance. Hey, I’m not hating. I’m one of those.
Her partner had messy, spikey, faux-hawky hair, an androgynous body, and an eyebrow piercing. Clearly, she flies above the gaydar.
Now, I am no cheat. I am no lecherous fiend. But I like to admire beautiful women (*hem hem*). I also like my women dyke-y (which Emily is). I probably stared with my mouth open the whole time.
I’m a fucking dog.
I love my girl and I am not in the least bit contemplating leaving her. I want to marry her. But I have the wondering eyes problem. But so does Emily.
Anyway, I love women, and I love confident women. Confidence is so sexy. What I am more attracted to in butch women is not that they look like boys (typical stereotype that I hate!) but that they have this confidence, this swag – they rock the dyke look and they know it. That’s what I love.
I also use the word “dyke” in a completely affectionate way. My girl identifies as a dyke, hell, I even call myself a dyke. It’s one of those double standard words. It’s okay to use the word in lighthearted situations, but that word can also be used as an insult. Some are offended by that word. Not trying to offend anyone. I kind of want to take that word back, make it a positive word.
It’s a slow go, for sure.
I digress, like always. Points to remember form this post: I’m still alive and kicking, butch women are hot, and more lesbians need to go out in public more often. My friend base is mostly heterosexuals – where are all the gays in my city and why can I not find them?!
Maybe it’s just me.
Whatever. I’m back and blogging will become a daily thing for me again! I promise!!!
Alright, I gotta go drive 85 miles on the thruway just for a damn checkup. Peace bitches!