By Guest Writer, Raye A lot of assumption, arguments, and judgments have been made about the phenomenon of “stone butches” over the years and being newly…
OMG, I keep getting angry comments on my blog about my experience in San Diego, at Gossip Grill, where I realized that the crowd was more…
I’m sure some of you have seen some of the comments a few readers have left me, indecent proposals I suppose. If I were single I’d be flattered, maybe a little worried since some of them have a bit of a stalker feel to them. But still flattering non the less. Let’s take a look at some of the comments from my greatest hits list, shall we?
I find it endlessly interesting, the way that us lesbians feel the need to categorize ourselves and each other into these limiting roles of femme, butch, tomboi, androgynous and futch (right in the middle between femme and butch). I'm sure I'm missing some, but these are the ones I hear most often. Actually, I usually just hear femme and butch. But we all know that there's a million shades of gray between those two extremes. Even though I know better then to stereotype and label people, I find myself doing it all the time. If for no other reason then as a means of describing someone to someone else in a casual conversation. Or while people watching at a lesbian club. Last night, Remi and I went to Club Eleven in WeHo and could have been overheard saying any version of, "Look at that butch checking out the femme in blue." Or, "Whoa, is that some butch on butch action?!" Not that there's anything wrong with that. But that's sort of my point. Why is it considered taboo in some circles for two butch women to date?
Last night after the lights went out, my gf and I started having one of those deep conversations that only come from being a little drunk or so tired you’re almost delusional. We were both exhausted, which translated into being too tired to hit the edit button on our brains. There’s also something about talking in the dark that’s a lot like talking on the phone. It gives you a feeling of being unobserved, allowing you to pause and ponder what the other just said, unafraid that your partner will misinterpret the trepid look on your face. If any of you read the comments left on my last blog you could see how I may have felt a little targeted yesterday. And like a good girlfriend, Remi came to my defense. I didn’t ask her too, I never would. Not that I would ever have to. While mild mannered in most ways, she’s always too happy to come to my rescue. Which is what we were talking about last night .... my apparent need of the occasional Knight in Shining Armor and her need to be that for me. I started to worry recently with some other things that have been going on in my life that Remi would soon tire of having to always “save me” even though it’s usually from myself.