|less remarkable than a bunch of mailboxes
||[Jun. 1st, 2007|02:48 pm]
|||||Blutengel - No God||]|
For those of you who aren't familiar with Newfoundland's famous George Street, I'll describe it briefly. It's about 200 feet long and has nothing but bars on it, well and one tiny little pizza take-out place. When something's going on, like mardi gras or the end of summer bash, there are just throngs of peple on the street. Even on a cold snowy saturday night, there are throngs of people on the street. Anyway, imagine a street like this, only with fancy restaurants, leather stores, shoe stores, sex stores, art galleries, handicraft stores and of course, bars, with throngs of lesbians roaming around.
I'm serious. The only time I ever saw that many dykes was at new york pride in 2003 when I watched the Dykes on Bikes go by. It was amazing! attention all canadian lesbians: get your sexy little asses down to Provincetown, MA! It's fan-fuckingtastic!
It brought a lot of things to mind - I'm so used to sticking out like a sore thumb where I go to school - I'm the lesbian, the butch chick, the most aggressive girl in the room - "don't fuck with her"... here I was totally unremarkable, barely categorizable as butch - not that i'm really into categories - they amuse me, and I like being in that foggy realm of soft butch/androgenous, but here there were so many flavors of gender expression and dyke fashion. It was a feast for the eyes! Anyway, it made me wonder about my own outward expression of gender, and made me question whether I try too hard to be 'masculine' or if I'm holding back. I always feel like I'm on the threshold of two worlds of perception - the perception that I'm gay, and the perception that I'm straight.
It's true that I want people to perceive me as gay - I am aware that I have an extroverted dykish vibe and if I don't allow it to hang out there, I feel like I'm hiding part of myself like a guilty secret. I don't know... I have this desire to wear men's clothing and then run around sticking out my boobs and toss my hair at all the pretty girls, or pretend to not be the goof that I am and be all stoic and aloof, hoping that I'll come off as tantalizing and mysterious. (At least I'm over the fact that I'll never stop worrying about what other people think! :p )Anyway, I am convinced that I generally look better in guys' clothes, but I don't know if that's an aesthetic thing or if it's because it more congruent with my unconscious gender expression.
Anyway, it was a real vacation - my gf and I were totally free to make out wherever we wanted to - on the street, on the beach, in a restaurant, at the bar, wherever the fuck we wanted! At one point, we were sitting on some steps and there was a straight man carrying his toddler son who pointed at us and said excitedly, "Look, Daddy!" I had just kissed my girlfriend, and felt the familiar tingling sensation I get when I anticipate some sort of homophobic action. The dad glanced in our direction and said, "yeah, that's a lot of mailboxes!" "Look at them all!" the kid said. I looked over my shoulder and saw a cluster of eight mailboxes.
A bunch of mailboxes were more remarkable than two lesbians cuddling. Wow.