Okay so this journal entry is partly for me and partly for people like me who may be searching on the internet for a sentence like "Help! Everyone thinks i'm a lesbian", or "women with hairy underarms" (which I'm telling you now doesn't turn up exactly what I would call self-help pages (although many viewers clearly help themselves to themselves while viewing pictures of hairy womens' *anything*!)) This is going to be a Michael-length ranting journal, so make yourself comfy, gentle reader.

Anyways, first things first, I have nothing against being a lesbian. Fuck! I wish I was a lesbian! Boy I'd be getting some booty then. From both men and women! (More on that later...) I've mentally tried being a lesbian. I like to look at women, sure, but more in our women-worshipping-society way. I both want IT and to be IT (too much Lacan anybody?) I've even hooked up with women and been turned on by it. But not all the way... I guess I would say the same thing some gay women say about being with men, it's nice but something is missing. It just isn't what I want.

Okay, so gay-bashing motives mostly dispelled, let's move on to the evidence.

Why people think I'm Queer, in three parts:

Exhibit A: My Body
1) I'm proudly zaftig: tall, broad, and plentiful. I don't excercise as an activity in itself. If I move (run, walk, bike) it's to get places, if I lift it's to move things. Anything else and I might as well admit I'm a rat on a wheel.
2) Okay, so this should be number 1. I'm hairy. Not circus freak hairy, but just as hairy as my body (maybe even *your* body) would be if left to its own devices. I think this is important because my body grows that hair for a reason. And my society tells me to shave it off for a ton of reasons. Like to make me look pre-pubescent, like a sexless, powerless child. To "remind" myself (read "convince" myself) that my body is nothing like a man's, not as strong, not as hearty, not as virile. Yes, my hairy pits are sexy (apparently to many "freaks" out there on the internet (maybe not so freaky, just the ones willing to go against what culture represses)) and they should be. They are the sign that I am a sexually mature human female capable of reproducing and otherwise contributing my physical strength (and strong physical scent) to the world.

Women are expected to fight our bodies all the time. Fight the fat, fight the hair, the shape, the color, everything. It's pretty convenient. Instead of society fighting our power, we do it ourselves. Talk about internalizing your true social status. I'm supposed to repress everything naturally feminine about my body, just like the world represses the Feminine in the culture at large (anyone who doesn't agree with this thesis about the continued oppression of women need only email me at holly@elmwoodstrip.com for an update on 21st century "feminism". Sorry to be cynical. But Brittany has liberated us right back to the status of temple prostitutes.)

Exhibit B: My Clothes and Attire
This may be the one where I'm willing to admit some of the responsibility. Even my "women's" clothes are suspiciously unisex. Can I be blamed if high-heels give me headaches? What about
corset-style red-sequined cleavage dresses that leave me more breathless than the fellas? Yeah, sure, if it's Halloween (that's funny if you know me.) Honestly "ladies" clothes are expensive, uncomforatble, too delicate to last through more than a year of continued wearing (the true test for any self-repecting article of clothing.) And what about pockets, huh? Ever wonder why women's pants have no pockets? What woman needs to carry the keys to Her own home, Her own car, Her own money. Oh yeah, only Single women and, you guessed it, dykes! (don't confuse this with a conclusion that all women with pockets in their pants are gay... i'm just riffin' here, but) Think about it... (mwah hah hah ha!! (maniacal paranoid laughter))

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My language
As this journal entry can attest to, I don't pull punches when it comes to speaking my mind. Why would I? Everyone has a right to have their hair-brain opinions aired (you are reading this internet journal post after all, so you must agree on some level.) We especially deserve to be heard if our ideas aren't really that hair-brained, or if no one has ever had them and stated them in quite the same way. I'm not going to pretend I'm not smart just to make some lame-ass Y-chromo feel better about himself. Last I checked that wasn't my purpose on this planet. It's all about consciousness-raising baby, for me, for you, pour tout le monde. And language is the only way we have to do it.

So what triggered this rant? Well, of course the not-so-sexual sexual act... I finally, after months and months, hooked up with some boy for a temporarily stimulating interlude. He's not nearly warped enough for me, god bless 'em. He thought the fact that I have a $13 fake black Poe-style raven with real feathers perched in my bedroom was "grim". Well, duh! And he never even really got in touch with my hairy nature, heavens forfend. I think he would have shreiked and kicked me under the bed with the rest of the dust kitties. Anyways, enough about the personal stuff. Here's what was so weird: right up to the point where we were hooking up, he confessed, he was convinced I was gay. He said he wouldn't have flirted with me, danced with me, invited me up to his apartment, if he thought I was straight. At the same time, he said he felt like a creep for hitting on a lesbian. Okay, so he seems like he's about as complicated as I am, granted, and conflicted too, but what's a girl to do, oh what's a girl to do...

Anyways, I have drawn my own conclusions. I think that straight people everywhere owe a great debt to same-sexers for breaking down gender roles for all of us. I don't think Lesbian women make their bodies more like Men's, I think they let their bodies be what they are naturally, Women's, Wemyn's, whatever-- just theirs. They follow their instincts not only with sex, but with gender. Pudgy, skinny, short, fat, tall, spiky, kinky, slinky, ghetto-booty, blue-veined boobies, why can't we all just get along and love the coochie?

wee hoo, this sure is quick! so quick in fact that at the beginning of this message i had to pee pretty bad and i still do but its so quick it really doesn't matter. before in order to generate this much content i would have pissed myself by now! so thanks to you paul. my days of wet spots and plastic seat covers are over!
--off to the lou...

Tonight! On Angel! (da dum daaaah!) When another mysterious package arrives at Wolfram & Hart that recorporealizes Spike (James Marsters), the gang learns that the existence of two living ensouled vampire heroes has created chaos in the world. After Eve (Sarah Thompson) tells them about a prophecy that states that the only way to restore order is to find the Cup of Perpetual Torment that bestows human life, Angel (David Boreanaz) and Spike battle it out for the ultimate prize. A series of flashbacks show the history of Angel and Spike and their relationship with Drusilla (guest star Juliet Landau).

I love my weekly brain drain... too bad it's more drainy than smoky :( ...

Found a cool site today on Cuba while I was searching for info on poet Reinaldo Arenas. Communism is not what its cracked up to be folks, and Fidel is no folk hero. Here's the . Also, take a look at the video of Arenas at this internal page . He says:
"There is a very advantageous position among leftists writers who live in capitalistic countries who enjoy all the benefits of democracy and great profits they earn while attacking democracy while they live in a democratic country. Maybe if those writers lived in a communist country from where they could not get out - they might change the way they think. Since living there, they would not be able to write a word! So for us, who suffered so much in Cuba - it's infuriating to see people enjoy all the security that comes with democracy - getting pleasure attacking it and becoming rich from doing this!" Bad translation, but you get the picture:

Ha Ha! Who's driving an SUV now boys!? ;)
You should check out fueleconomy.gov and verify my research. I'm not trying to be argumentative here (well...), just super bored at work.



I guess I'm just trying to find someway to feel at least a little better (at someone else's expense haha!) about my car which, as I have melodramatically stated on many an occassion, has ruined my life. Tomorrow I have to go to court to defend myself against the charge of "following too closely". If I get a point on my license, then I'm doomed (DOOMED) although I don't know how my insurance could possibly go up any higher. Anyways, as the above figures demonstrate, you can no longer remonstrate me for driving a gas guzzling SUV without admitting that the Malibu is no dream vacation either! Oh! I'm cruel! ;>