“torn jeans, black shades and slicked back hair”
Thoughts on gender. That is, on my relationship with A. (Please don’t misconstrue the term relationship – it’s strictly platonic other than the cuddling and kissing… We were discussing this general fact recently when she coined me her “side dish” – i’m totally amused.) Anyway, i realized that she is, to me, absolutely a boy (hmm…i should ask A if i can call her my boy toy…). I noticed this because how i think of A in sexual/relationship terms lines up extremely well with observations i’ve made previously about my feelings towards guys.
Mainly that i think A is hot – but, really, only with her clothes on (we’ve just changed around each other – i told you we’re just makeout buddies ;). Well, i’m not that much of a dyke; it’s not so uncommon for me to think men are hot, but every time i’ve had the chance to compare i think they look so much better clothed.
But also, i can’t really imagine it going much farther than it is. (But we know, i think, how i feel about saying what i won’t do. So, grain of salt, etc.) That is, i love the kissing and the cuddling, but i’m not sure i’d be comfortable with more. And, well, i never was really comfortable with doing just much more than that with the guys i’ve dated. But finding out that i’m totally okay (and then some) with going farther than that with a girl never negated the fact that i did enjoy at least those first steps. Fortunately, this isn’t going to come up any time soon anyway. (Side note: i’ve realized recently that, for one thing, i simply love physical contact with people – it isn’t sexual (of course, it can be), it’s just really deeply pleasing to me.)
I was – somehow – actually surprised by A’s breasts. Like, just that she had them. Which is just silly ’cause i could tell that much with her shirt on. But there you have it.
A boy/girl (butch/femme, boi/etc.) vignette: Our posse was hanging out this weekend (that night was overall brilliant fun, and deserves it’s own story, but this is not it). A got a really shitty phone call, and i went with her to the other room to hug and soothe her a bit. When the others came in to join us, i was sitting on A’s lap, arms around her neck, leaned toward her ear to talk. And i thought it looked like A was holding and comforting me. Moot point, perhaps, given that everyone there kind of knew what had happened. But it still seemed nice…i guess to be able to comfort her in a way that was completely appropriate to who or how A is. Or maybe it’s a matter of having something to bolster your masculinity (a girl on your lap) to help with feeling like you’re losing that masculinity (by being emotionally torn up in front of people). Of course, i didn’t think of any of that when it happened, but it seemed to work out nicely.
And a note on queer culture: it seems strange to me that all the dykes i’m friends with are completely cool with a lesbian dating a transguy, but i know most of them would, at the least, give the girl shit for dating a bioguy – and maybe even have a real problem with it. Is that a rejection of the transguy (as in, well he’s not a real boy, so we won’t take away your dyke points) or is it a queer community thing (like, lesbian is queer, trans is queer, and we’re cool with it as long as you’re sticking within the queer community)?
“Beautiful Boy” – Zrazy