The Bachelor Pad

Tony looked around my new Bay Area studio apartment.

Wow, this is really coming together.

Candles, paintings, nice furniture, and a layout perfect for entertaining. Lighting to accentuate any and every mood. Yes, it was coming together. But it wasn’t done yet.

I didn’t know you were this gay.

I paused. I decided to take it as a compliment.

Why didn’t your Texas apartment look like this?

Because I let my roommate decorate that apartment. This—this has to be me.

And in asserting my apartment as an extension of me, I realized how much of this was, as Tony pointed out much more bluntly than I ever could, gay. There, showing off my new place, I realized that I hadn’t really counted on my sexuality intersecting with how I created home, but I guess it made sense. Indeed, my gayness played much more into its design than the (awfully good) taste Tony was noticing.

I think it began to hit me as I signed my lease three weeks earlier: OMG. This is my bachelor pad.

I suppose you could dim the lights and cue the seventies porn music. But before we get too far ahead—some background.

I’ve always considered myself pretty independent; as soon as I turned 18, I was out of my parents’ house, but never have I lived alone for an extended amount of time. In college, I had roommates. During summer internships, I leased studios but never furnished them with more than a mattress and a fold-out table and chairs. And in my last apartment, I had an apartmentmate, which afforded both of us the privacy of our own rooms while retaining the collegiate atmosphere of having someone always around. And yes, we decorated it as minimally as possible. It was College Lite.

Now here I am: my own studio. With real furniture. With real privacy. With utilities that will be all mine to pay. Blare the trumpets: My bachelor pad.

And with this awesome realization came responsibility: if this was my mid-twenties bachelor pad, then it had better get pimped out.

I’m not going to lie—I’m picky about furniture and design. Two weeks before I moved into my new apartment, I created potential apartment layouts on my computer; I surfed Ikea.com, Target.com, and lots of fancy, nameless European furniture store sites; I even debated color combinations and schemes with friends.

I came to my move-in day prepared—only to be caught off-guard by some ratty red-brown carpet, an old-fashioned yellow oven, plugs that were all two-prong, and JCPenney burlap-looking curtains that couldn’t decide whether they wanted to be the color of copper or dirt. It wasn’t the apartment I remembered when I visited a few weeks before, but then again, the whole thing was furnished… which told me that I was the one who had to turn this place into (music) my bachelor pad.

I found that, in both style and function, my choices had to go through a dating filter. If this was going to be my bachelor pad, then I had better deliver my best first impressions all the time.

In terms of style, nothing could look temporary. I am not a college student. I don’t do posters taped on walls, futons that look like futons, or desks with a reading lamp. No: things had to have a sense of permanence, like I had established myself as a man… after all, that’s who my mates are going to get. This meant more expensive furniture made of darker woods and metals. It meant frosted glass and leather instead of plastic and actual canvassed art instead of whiteboards. There would be no institutional fluorescent lighting—mood lamps and candles at various heights and intensities would create separate spaces out of what would otherwise be a one-room studio. The messaging behind this: I have my shit together, and you’re going to love it. If I had a loft space, it’d be damn sexy; I don’t but this is as close as I can get.

The centerpiece of the new space, a huge bookshelf stacked with photographs, books, DVDs, CDs, board games… things that are all about me. Perfect conversation fodder for dates that somehow make it back home with me.

In terms of function, I had to be comfortable bringing those potential mates to my new digs too. I had to have seats tiny enough to fit my small living area without giving up potential cuddling opportunities. A twin-bed was a no go, even if a studio space blooms with less furniture; I settled for a wide full. And, in lieu of a TV (which I find to be a huge distraction from work and extra bills I could go without), a projector, screen, and sound system made possible the almighty excuse, “Wanna come back to my place and watch a movie?” I even bought a variety of DVDs to suit any suitor.

So now here I am, a gay man in an apparently gay-friendly apartment within reach of the gayest city on earth. I’m sitting on my new sofa with the lights dim and floating to Coldplay’s newest album. There’s a candle lit on the table. I’m writing about my life and pretending it might be interesting to others. It’s sort of like being the male Carrie of Sex and the City… and in a place like San Francisco, I feel like I’ve got no excuses—I’m going to nab me a man.

Then again, it took Carrie six seasons and a movie to nab hers. And while the city was her playground, I think that when my apartment is complete, this place will be mine.

(...to the full post)

Housekeeping, 3.16.08

+ news +
Representative Scary Kern,
On Project Runway,
and NYTimes on the Barnard trans student for the week.

Sincerely,
ts

(...to the full post)

AskFannie VIDEO: I'm... too sexy for my BOYFRIEND!

Hey Readers!

Fannie Fierce here. We, at Below the Belt, are proud to announce a special edition of AskFannie on video! This was the first time I have ever attempted anything like this, so please excuse the amateur nature of the vlog post. I hope y'all enjoy!

*a transcript of the question and post are available after the jump...


Hey Readers,
Fannie Fierce here. In honor of the new year I give you AskFannie's very first video advice column. And without further ado, the question!

Dear Fannie,

I'm a bit of a pickle. I'm a second year in college and in my first monogomous relationship since coming out a year ago. But, I'm an attractive guy and when I go out I tendto get attention -- a little too much attention if you ask me. From time to time... well, if anyone was in my position it's just too hard sometimes with all the temptation. What can a guy do?

Sincerely,
Too Hot to Handle It

Dear Too Hot,

Here's what I hear, blah blah blah I'm gay, blah blah blah monogamous, blah blah blah I'm hot... PITY ME! It's so hard to be beautiful. I have three words for you Too Hot, you're right hand... or in my case, my left! Basically You're a little gay slut with a wandering eye. And there's nothing wrong with that. Gay men have been constructing entire lives on promiscuity for decades. You mention that you're new to your first monogamous relationship and are newly out. While I'm sure you're madly in love with your boyfriend, it sounds like your head up here [gestures to head on shoulders] and your head down there [gestures to groin] are in two different places.

Every gay goes through different phases when he or she... he first come out. There's the slut phase and the pride phase. In the Pride phase you're all idealistic, and "No! I won't be like those other queers and there's only one guy for me," with your white picket fence and 2.5 adopted children from Somalia, or something Brangelina like that. In the slut phase, the whole world is your big gay oyster and you're at a buffet! Pile on the crab legs!

People go through phases in different order. Some have the pride first and then the slut phase, or vice versa. And... it sounds like you're a big gay slut. If you're not in the right place psychologically for a relationship right now, that's fine. You just need to make that clear with your boyfriend. Tell him that you're newly out and you want to play the field a little bit. It's perfectly fine to diversify your stocks, just as long as your stockholder knows what your doing. (That doesn't make any sense, but roll with me)


Be a big ol' gay slut, safely. However long it takes for you to get all that gay promiscuity stuff out of your system. And hey, it might never happen and you just might be a big ol' gay slut... forever. Which would be fabulous!

++
fiercely,
fannie

send your questions to askfannie@belowthebelt.org

(...to the full post)

AskFannie: Cohabitating Complications!

Dear Fannie,

I'm 21 and gay. I've been with my boyfriend for about 7 months and we're just about to get a place together. Now, I'm still in school, and he works full-time and is very well paid. We're in the midst of planning the decorating for our apartment... and he keeps pulling the money card. Because he's buying the furniture, I don't get a say in how the apartment looks. I mean, I'm grateful and all that he's willing to spring for all this nice stuff, but I want a say too! It feels like I'm moving into his place, instead of moving into OUR place. How do I make him respect my voice in decorating our apartment?

Marred by Money

MBM,

I've addressed money issues in the past, and I admit... I might have been a bit anti-catipalist/socialist-utopian, but I'll try and be more helpful and pragmatic this time around. So you're getting a place with your beau, but the boy is blocking the interior designer gem deep within you. While I think it's perfectly normal for two queens to butt heads over chartreuse or periwinkle duvet covers... you're problem may run deeper than bedframes and window treatments.

Moving in with a boyfriend or girlfriend is a big decision, and one that many couples rush into. And while it's possible that you and your boyfriend are ready to move in with each other, 7 months does seem a little hasty to jump into a joint lease agreement, where you're locked into living with someone you've only known for less than a year. I know that 7 months is like a decade in gay years. And while it may seem like a nice idea to see each other all the time, that can get old really fast. I think one of the most integral components to a relationship, especially a new one, is time apart. Being able to have your own space is important, because chances are that there are some things about him that bug you. When you live together, those will be there all the time. Moving in with a partner isn't just about occupying the same space together, it's really about compromising and work together to make a livable living space.

Now, if you're boyfriend is playing the money card where the furniture decisions are considered, it's pretty clear it's not just about money... it's about power. This is a classic case of how money can really fuck over a relationship. It's one thing if one party "doesn't mind" paying for something, like dinners, concert tickets, etc. But when one's economic situation is used to position one partner in a superior place in a power differential, that's a problem. I would recommend that you be firm about the fact that just because you don't have the same amount of liquid assets, doesn't mean he can just ignore your opinions. He may be purchasing the furniture, but you have to live there too.

You might try and agree to budget so much money for decorating. You both should try and contribute proportional amounts to that pool of money being used for furnishings. That way you can both be equally invested in the process of creating a home together. Also, if you don't like a certain design choice he makes, it's insufficient to just disagree with it. Come up with a viable alternative option, otherwise, shut the fuck up and enjoy your sugar daddy.

++
fiercely,
fannie

send you questions to askfannie@belowthebelt.org

(...to the full post)

Dear Dumbledore,

So I heard.

While I'm really happy there's a gay character in the Harry Potter books, it must have been hard to be the only one in a seven part series. No wonder you were so hidden all the time, so restrained and soft-spoken.

And I heard the truth about Grindelwald, too; I can't imagine what it must have been like to have fought the one you love, and then be subject to years of stories about the time you defeated one of the most evil tyrants in history. It's hard for people to understand things unless they're completely black and white.

But perhaps the most horrible thing of all, the part I feel the worst about for you, is that the person who knows you the most deeply, a person who you trust to represent you to the world community, your creator...OUTED YOU!

In this day and age, most of us know about the repercussions of outing someone's homosexuality to the rest of the world. And what was most interesting was that the way in which your friend, J.K. Rowling, went about doing it -- at a book reading she answered a question about your romantic history, noting nonchalantly that you were in love with a man, that you were gay, that she knew it all along, that she knew as she was helping your character grow with each page. This also means, as I'm sure you're well aware, that she planned to hide your sexuality in a way not unlike the hidden, lost-to-the-world homosexuals from some of the more repressive works of Victorian literature.

So the way this all rolled out was really interesting. A lot of people like me were upset with Rowling for not including a queer character in the series, but with this announcement it seemed like she answered our pleas. The news set in and fans everywhere were shocked; scores of people, I'm sure, flipped back through each chapter of your history, from the moments when you shared wise advice with the children of Hogwarts, to the time you brought Harry to his foster family, to the momentous time you saved Harry from Voldemort using the most astonishing magic, to flashbacks in the later books giving snapshots of your past. With but a few sentences, Rowling refashioned your entire history for the world to see. Your character was, quite honestly, hijacked.

But I guess that's how outing works, how coming out often works. You "come out" of supposed hiding, and the world sees you in a different light; sexuality is a huge part of one's identity -- whether it's discussed or not (heterosexual or homosexual), it shapes many of our thoughts and behaviors in life. The question then becomes, it seems, is whether Rowling did you real justice or not.

I would argue that Rowling is operating within the framework of the literary market, making choices about her characters that seek to "gently push" rather than "revolutionize"; she did not include gay characters in the story because, well, the sociopolitical climate in which Harry Potter most profoundly exists is one that does not welcome gay characters in children's literature -- the books wouldn't be bought. ("I would have told you earlier if I knew it would make you so happy." *) And while in many parts of our country the notion of a Victorian gay sexuality, a gayness that can only exist behind closed doors and in deep secrecy, is disappearing...children are still seen as at risk; real gay characters, real gay mentors, gay teachers, are a threat to their childhood and their growth.

And so, dear Dumbledore, I'm sorry that you had to live your life like the many gay characters we have seen from movies past, their youthful romances stifled by fear of heteronormativity, their identities quelled into a restrained silence. When you watched over the children of Hogwarts, you did it so they could grow to be themselves, free of unjust limitations and empowered by love.

But Dumbledore, for all the good you have done in your life and the happiness I am sure it brought you, I am still left with one telling image -- an image of you standing in front of the Mirror of Erised with Harry, describing the view in front of you, a view that reflects your life's deepest wishes: "I? I see myself holding a pair of thick, woolen socks. One can never have enough socks." For those in hiding, mirrors can be the most debilitating; you looked in the mirror, and you were forced to see...nothing.

(...to the full post)

Housekeeping, 10.21.07

+ news +
DUMBLEDORE IS GAY!!!,
Scoutages,
and what the heck was this all about? for the week.

Sincerely,
ts

(...to the full post)

Housekeeping, 10.14.07

+ news +
Craig speaks!,
the translator was pretty crappy...,
and Microtrans?? for the week.

Sincerely,
ts

(...to the full post)

AskFannie: Going OUT & about

Dear Fannie,

I'm a 22 year old gay male and I've never had a serious boyfriend -- I attribute this mostly to the fact that I went to college where dating options for LGBT people were few. But now that I'm in a big city and I'm dating more often, I meet people all the time that have had a number of long term relationships. It's really intimidating. Sometimes I worry that I don't really know HOW to date, because I've never had practice. Pardon my ignorance, but is LTR-oriented dating for LGBT people much different than it is for heteros? If so, do you have any tips for success?

Sincerely,
Looking for love

Hi, LFL,
I’m glad you’ve been able to escape the clutches of an unfriendly college environment for us homos. So you’ve fled the dungeon that is homophobic college life to the big gay urban center, and you’re wondering why you feel untrained in this mysterious art of gay dating. (I say gay dating because I want to speak to your specific situation, because the dating codes, mores, and trends vary wildly between the queer clans.) News Flash: You are untrained in dating. But the good news is that it really isn’t all that mysterious. At least no more mysterious than it is for heteros.

I know this may be hard to believe, considering how homo dating can seem virtually non-existent, and how hetero-dating seems to be everywhere. Well, that’s the thing… there are a heck lot more heteros than homos. How many more? I don’t know, and I don’t care to know. But needless to say, by sheer numbers it’s a lot more common to see, hear about, and know hetero dating couples.

Now, of course there are trends amongst gay men that don’t necessarily appear in hetero couples and vice versa. Gay men are more likely to have numerous sexual/romantic relationships running simultaneously. They are also more likely to have anonymous sex than heteros as a whole. But in these trends are by no means hard and fast rules. There are plenty of heteros, especially those young, hip, urban heteros who have more sex than a crystal queen at a circuit party would dream of. In fact, you might say that those young, hip, urban heteros are living the “gay lifestyle” as the religious right has coined and historically used to demonize gay men for their “wanton promiscuity”… of course, those yuppie heteros get all the fun and none of the nifty discrimination that us queers get to bask in.

So, LFL, the long and short of it is that there are plenty of gay men who are new to the dating scene. Whether it’s from just being in a place that makes gay dating possible, or coming out later in life, your situation is by no means exemplary. And relationships are hard. There’s no easy 5 steps to take that will expedite your experience accrual in gay dating. In my gay infancy, new to the world wide gay web, I bought and read a gay dating advice book called The MANdates: 25 Real Rules for Successful Gay Dating. No offense to the author, but it was a lovely, nicely designed, steaming pile of bullshit. Rife with stereotypes and questionable “guides,” like “How to read your Man from his Diva CD collection.” Someone hold my hair while I borch. The only way to learn how to date gay men… is to date gay men.

Things to watch out for:
• Men, whether by socialization, hormonal influence, or some “natural” trait, tend to be reserved with the communication. In fact, men are legendarily uncommunicative and passive aggressive. When you have two (or more) people in a relationship that regularly fail to communicate will sew heapfuls of relationship trouble. So make sure that communication remains high… even if it means breaking out the therapist.
• Men also tend to have higher sex drives (although women tend to have lower sex drives, they often report more intense and more gratifying sexual experiences than men), so sex will likely be an important part of a gay relationship. Many “mainstream” or “homonormative^TM” gays of the HRC variety will want to de-emphasize and devalue gay men’s sex lives in order to make us more palpable to the hetero majority. But the fact of the matter is that sex is an important part of any relationship, and shouldn’t be scapegoated or devalued because it is in some way oppositional to an antiquated judeo-christian “morality.”

I hope all that was helpful, LFL. And good luck and happy hunting. May the rainbow shine upon your gay, faggy, path.

++
fiercely,
fannie

send your questions to askfannie@gmail.com

(...to the full post)

Sliding

So it's something that I tend to avoid. Something that worries me just thinking about it. Then when it actually becomes the topic of conversation, my stomach starts to churn. If the conversation continues and murmurs of opinions start to peek out, I feel my cheeks get warm. Then if it becomes a full out "discussion" with the expression of various point of view, and I end up either holding back brimming tears or excusing myself to the bathroom before I explode.

It's a debate I still have no idea how to approach or deal with or digest. I have even avoided specifically writing about it here because I wasn't even sure what I wanted to say. There are a lot of cultural differences that I see everyday that affect how I lead my life here…but this one is a toughie. It's not just the idea that a homosexual lifestyle isn't accepted, it's everything that this topic addresses - gay rights, gay couples, gay marriage, gay education, gay activism. The word gay is a trigger. A bullet-proof vest two feet thick couldn't protect you from the aftermath.

To clarify, the word itself doesn't necessarily evoke negative reactions or provoke nasty responses. It's that's the subsequent issues that result just aren't handled as well as within a community that has more experience confronting it, that is more used to the concept. As they say, we're afraid of what we don't know, right? Here maybe it's not so much as fear as much as being unaware.

Even with that understood, I struggle each time I am faced with the topic to not only know how to react, but how to judge my reaction. How often do I let things slide? Things I wouldn't have dreamed of before moving here? Is that ok? Should you let cultural differences change your approach? For me it's not a question of whether or not you should let them change how you react, question, or respond, it's a fact of the situation that you are in. More and more I am seeing how the mindset and understanding I have of queer issues is completely and 100% from a U.S. point of view. Just the fact that I use the term "queer issues" in this paragraph yet the description I used in the first one was "gay" illustrates the difference that exists between how things are approached in the two environments I have lived in. Apart from that, my big problem is where to draw the line. I've always had a problem with people that are convinced that they are the almighty on queer issues, that current cosmopolitan gender issues have one way of being overcome, and that they are the messiah to bring us to the light. Get over it. It's just not true. As we all know, there are far too many contributing factors to honestly be convinced that we are the be all and end all of what's up in the gay world.

Then it becomes personal. Some of the closest people I have in my community here are people I'd be afraid to broach the topic with for fear of what their reactions would be. Or worse, what their opinion is on any of the aforementioned issues. This is mainly because I've come across various situations that have reduced me to the physical state that I mentioned above and the thought scares me. I never thought I could have someone as close as some of those that I have here that hold those opinions. What does that mean? About me, my lifestyle, my choices, my environment?

In my own circle, hostility has not been a problem. It's not a matter or being afraid or vehemently against anything or anyone. It's more just general discomfort. Jokes, questions, name-calling. The unknown. I recently had a conversation with someone that made me even more uncomfortable due to the level of our relationship in which the person expressed that they did not agree with the fact that a mutual acquaintance we have, who does not have a biological father in his life, chooses to call a family friend that has taken him under his wing dad. It just so happens that this family friend is openly gay. The conversation went on because the person gave the explanation that this young boy lives with his mother and his two sisters. His mother is somewhat absent in the emotional and caretaking department. So this boy has had no straight male figure in his life and only sisters as constant parental figures. Now what happens when he grows up and instead of actually trying to figure it out for himself, chooses the path that he has grown up seeing all along and just decides to be gay, even if he's not.

So you mean what would happen if a young boy chooses a sexual identity just based on what he has seen even if it's not what he truly wants in life? Toughie. I'd hate for that to happen.

I don't know. It's an ongoing thing that I'm still trying to work out. I think the hardest part for me is knowing how far I'm willing to let things go with people that I have in my close circle. I still argue, voice, and express myself but sometimes I just get tired of being on the defense. Am I letting things slide too much?

(...to the full post)

Mary Potter: The Boi Who Lived (Fabulously!)

I’ve wanted to write a post about the big H.P., but I haven’t been able to think of something I could write about cohesively. For a little while I wanted to talk about the few (but horrifyingly obvious) sexual innuendos in the movie (Ron: “So what was it like?” … Harry: “Kind of…wet.” Delay. “…Because she was crying”). Then I wanted so badly to talk about how I finished the last installment overnight and which parts I loved most, but nothing really seemed to resonate particularly with the theme of this blog community. Then, after a few conversations with queer people, it hit me:

Harry, where are the GAYS? Now I realize this is kind of a modern dilemma whether it’s appropriate to create gay characters into major media that reaches children. Even if J. K. Rowling wanted to introduce a gay character, could she have?

If you devote enough ink to craftily introduce a gay character in a children’s series (and it would be a lot of ink – you’d have to do it carefully, sensitively, and you’d have to take on the role of educator much more than as if you’re taking about heterosexual teen dating), how can you talk about gay kids without prompting a magnifying glass on the character’s (the child’s) sexuality? Is it appropriate to suggest we could/should do this to children? And despite the problems of assuming heterosexuality for all children, it may create a bit of a window for gay kids to work out their identity internally before “choosing” sexuality. So, sorting through all these confused thoughts: As much as I would like a gay wizard at Hogwarts, I’m confused about how it should be delivered. Maybe it’s just because it’s never really been done before.

The other question I have about presenting gay characters in children’s stories is this: how do you actually, noticeably, present a gay character? It’s something the gay community has wrestled with for a while. If you made the gay male gender variant (read: gay), then you’re isolating gays who aren’t effeminate. But if you don’t make them effeminate (Brokeback-style), then you risk only making gay okay when it’s not overtly gay. And IF they’re not gender variant, then do you make them talk about their sexuality? Do you make them actively hunt other gay men? So many questions, with answers I don’t have.

But this is not to say that I’m letting Rowling off the hook. I believe she has done a very good job of creating, for the first time in popular children’s literature, a series that focuses intently on issues of mass media and exposure of identity. That said, couldn’t she have taken a little more responsibility? Ignoring the fact that Hermione, despite her smarts, is helplessly tiny and cries all the time (a gust of wind could knock that girl over); ignoring that it’s Harry’s mother, and not his father, who protected him with the obnoxiously feminized “power of love”; ignoring that Mr. and Mrs. Weasley (despite their charm) represent (and promote) the stereotypical, lower-class system of rigid gender roles; and ignoring that the highest ranking women officials always hit a glass ceiling (McGonagall, Umbridge) …why couldn’t she have appeased us all a little and thrown in a character with either a little gender variance or status as a sexual minority?

Possibly the most aggravating part of this all is that Rowling does, in fact, allude to gayness at least once in the series:

'I heard you last night,' said Dudley breathlessly. Talking in your sleep. Moaning.'

'What d'you mean?' Harry said again, but there was a cold, plunging sensation in his stomach. He had revisited the graveyard last night in his dreams.

Dudley gave a harsh bark of laughter, then adopted a high-pitched whimpering voice.

'"Don't kill Cedric! Don't kill Cedric!" Who's Cedric - your boyfriend?'

(Harry and Dudley, Book V)

So Rowling is willing to admit that gayness exists, and that it’s something that can be used as a tool for bullying – so, uh, in my book I think that means she created for herself the responsibility of playing the balancing act: if you mention gayness in such a light, you need to discuss at some point when talking about gayness is appropriate. Particularly relevant to the final book, in which Rowling suggests that identities are anything but static, and that people can change dramatically over time as they face the truth about the world and about themselves. That, and isn’t England supposed to be more queer-friendly? If this is the case, now I’m even more worried that Harry Potter’s lack of gay characters was purposeful.

So now that Rowling is charged with the task of writing Mary Potter: The Boi Who Lived (Fabulously), I leave her with a quote from wise Dumbledore:

'You fail to recognise Cornelius, that it matters not what someone is born,
but what they grow up to be!'

(Dumbledore, Book IV)

(...to the full post)

Say my name.

I was talking recently with a friend of mine over a beer – we were comparing our college experiences. I went to a moderate-to-conservative private college in the south; she went to a famously open-minded private college in New England. Environment doesn’t always play a factor in one’s decision to identify deviantly, so to speak, but in my case I think it did. I was wound up so tightly that I needed to be in an community that pushed me out of the closet; I needed to be in an inflexible environment that disallowed any kind of identity that wasn’t completely In or completely Out.

But what I really want to talk about is the moment of truth, the moment I not only realized but the moment that I accepted. The point of no return. Here’s how I unraveled:

My first year at college was a nightmare, and it was mostly my fault. I was quiet, anxious, and afraid of being called out. I was afraid of being noticed for fear that someone might see parts of me I wasn’t comfortable baring. The combination of my own inflexibility with the general social inflexibility of my college created a bit of a psychological time bomb in my head. I chose to deal with my unhappiness at college through complete disbelief: everything was fine, and everything will be better when I transfer, everything will be better after I graduate.

The problem is, for whatever reason, the gays on campus found me. Over the matter of a semester and a half, I befriended the gays on campus, curious as to why they all managed to introduce themselves to me. They were the only real friends I had. Little did I know that by being so aggressive and friendly, they planted a seed deep in my brain – they introduced to me a new identity that somehow managed to get by, to live happily despite all the pressure on them to cease to exist. But I refused to go out and socialize with them; I refused to take another step across the diving board into what I considered a self-abating spiral of masculinity, into non-heterosexuality.

As the first year rolled into second semester, my friendships with the campus gays grew, and my perception of the community shifted to a more positive lens. I started to help with campus LGBT activism as a straight ally, collecting signatures for petitions I’d advertise in classes where I felt comfortable.

Now here’s where I’ve been leading – my meeting with Dr. Jones, esteemed professor of southern literature. After she encouraged me to make an announcement to my classmates about one of our petitions, I met with her privately to discuss my thoughts on a thesis I was developing for a paper. But she didn’t really want to talk about my paper.

“I really admire all the work you’re doing; I can’t even imagine the struggles you must have endured during just your short time here.”

I smiled blankly and nodded, confused.

“I mean, I myself studied at schools in the south, but there were still vibrant, encouraging communities for gay and lesbian students.”

I still smiled blankly and nodded, but my insides screamed horror. I was trapped.

“So, as a gay student, have you found your experience here to be as dreadful as I hear it can be?”

And with that question, with that presumption of my identity, I had been given a choice. Until this moment I had not considered for even a second that I was gay; it just wasn’t an option. But here, so innocently, Dr. Jones – a gracefully aged woman, looking at me with empathetic, concerned brown eyes – called on me to reidentify.

Something happened. It was entirely impulsive, like a twig snapping under someone’s weight. In those few seconds before speaking, I didn’t think about consequences. I wanted to finally be able to communicate with someone and feel comfortable and know that they felt comfortable, too. I wanted so desperately to really talk with her. I just wanted for one small moment – one small moment in the anxious existence I constructed around myself – to breathe.

And then, as I felt my lips begin to whisper, I exhaled:

“…it hasn’t been too bad.”

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Here We Are In the Natural Habitat Of The Famed Creature. It's Not Known For Superior Brain Function.

I’m irked. I’m irked in a way that is hard to describe. I’m irked in a way that feels like being eternally trapped in some nightmarish musical hell. (No judgment calls made here on musicals or those that like them. But for the most part, they suck ass.) I’m irked in a way that can only be put into song.

“The baby is going out with the bathwater.

But what gives? Red and swollen from yo’ diaper rash.

The world is the baby, people are the rash (or the diaper that caused the rash which caused the baby to cry and it makes sense ‘cause the people/diaper gets shit on by the man but either way it’s really fucking annoying cause she won’t shut the fuck up so we might as well let go of her.)

It’s like like like watching the short bus drift off a cliff.

Craaaaasssshhh…oh…oh...oh

One more time!”

If this has yet to be a significant clarification of my mood for those of you reading, let’s just get to the quick and dirty: People are rejects.

We managed to somehow spew forth from the womb only to multiply and unleash a torrential downpour of nutters and vagrants onto this sweet sweet earth. Why can’t everything be a Planet Earth episode where we exist in our natural habitats and have Sigourney Weaver narrate our simple day-to-day actions? (If you haven’t seen the show, I highly recommend it.) So, all said and done, what kind of creature features am I referring to?

After all the controversy about “bug chasers” in Rollingstone magazine, out comes this: Some Dutch gay bandits have been gang raping men and infecting them with the HIV because “it excited them.” Read: GHB is good for the soul. (Date rape! Sublime!) I had always pictured gay bandits to resemble My Little Pony more than , say, the Punisher. Oops. Although after considering their means of attack, you know those little ponies were some underhanded fuckers. Nice to your face but the minute you turn your back, you get trampled. And butt raped. At least the Pun had the decency to penetrate you face to face with a semi-automatic.

What saddens me more is that “the case has deeply unsettled the Netherlands, and caused it to cast a hard look at its easygoing views on sex…” Time and time again we are educated/imbued with the notion that aggravated rape is not sex, that rape is first and foremost, an act of violence. So when the case is as clear as day, why are we even considering the possibility that sexual freedom was partially responsible for a (self-) hate crime? The victims were VICTIMS. Sure, they went to a sex party to engage in some man loving but they probably weren’t expecting an extended invitation to that big homo orgy in the sky. (HIV, mind you, is not a death sentence. For those with sufficient healthcare.)

These gay banditos injected vials of blood into the unconscious victim. The premise might have been sex but the after dinner entertainment was a narcotic-laced drink and a syringe full of poison. The last time I checked my sex sessions never came with that added bonus. Well, the vanilla ones at least. (Poz blood, mind you, is not poison. Unless intentionally forced upon you.) And so, when the sex part of the crime is nary more than a lure for a greater, twisted plan, how are we still grouping the sex and the rape together?

If we don’t continue to make a conscious effort to differentiate between the two, compounded with more harebrained acts that will inevitably crop up, soon enough, we will be strapped into a Chrysler without brakes called “sexual censorship.” The words “Missionary for Life” will be the battle cry for the Religious Right, emblazoned on Abercrombie ads as witty t-shirt slogans.

Hell, to a point, the world would be simpler if we were just a bunch of sexless wonders but where would the fun go? And when you can’t get off the way you want to, what new potentially harmful acts will we be forced to delve into? In fact, is that not what the Dutch gang was experiencing to begin with? How much sexual censorship has already invaded our collective social consciousness?

Now, I’m more than aware that there are always radically opposing views especially when it comes to the hot button issues (and I know mine is nothing original) but sometimes things are just wrong. It was a despicable act. It should not have happened. However, no matter how cut and dry, it’s hard to pinpoint the real motive. Was it an act of revenge, of anger, of malice? When perhaps in playing the victim, you submit to the urge to claim your own. Sadly, all of this doesn’t come as much of a surprise. News isn’t news if it’s not news at all, is it?

The only thing I have to hold on to now is this creature. It’s new and shiny. I feel like I might have run across it on one of my last trips. Although who can really be sure? I was a little preoccupied screaming at the grass for stealing the 53 cents in my pocket. Damn it all.

Sigourney, what’s a guy to do?

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On wanting to be a dyke.

Okay, it’s time. The pink elephant in the room needs to be acknowledged.

For too long have we rallied at pro-choice events, for too long have we attended Indigo Girls concerts, trailed the Aimee Mann roadshows, and followed the Ani Difranco dykescapades. We’re the gays who meet a guy and then u-haul after just a few great dates. For too long have we dressed unfashionably, eaten excessive amounts of tofu, and dreamt about a life full of suburbia, station wagons, and kids. It’s time we had a voice.

We are the lesbimans.


It’s a tumultuous existence, I admit. We’re loaded with incongruence: gay men, but drawn to lesbians; we find powerful women riveting; we believe overt, male-embodied masculinity is passée and often revolting. We wish we were dykes.

Why are we lesbimans?

Okay, okay. Mostly because we feel rejected or out of place in the mainstream gay male community. But this rejection isn’t really about not being cool or not being attractive enough. Actually…maybe it is. There’s a sense of security I find with lesbians, and it’s a security I can routinely find. No other group of people makes me feel so comfortable. But that security comes hand-in-hand with the fact that I am here because I am generally uncomfortable among gaggles of gays. I’m not pretty enough, I’m not quick enough, I don’t have a snappy retort or I’m not butch enough, I care about things like politics, family and equality, and I clearly – clearly – can’t dress myself with anything that doesn’t involve a hoodie.

But I can’t just say that I don’t like mainstream gays because I feel rejected by them – I have to come up with something else. I think a big part of it is that gay masculinity, as it stands, is far too anxious, far too restrictive for me to even want to try and deal with. After spending half of my college career coming to terms with my sexuality and my identity, I don’t need to spend the rest of my young life trying to maintain a gender image that in all honesty I find completely ridiculous. I love Jake Gyllenhaal, but Brokeback did more than make gay romance okay. It solidified the nearly unattainable gay ideal that is traditional masculinity and brought us back to the YMCA-singing, butch-fetishizing, self-hating Marys.

So how did this all start? Why are gay men, of all people, obsessed with being butch?

I remember going on a date with someone ten years my senior (he was 33, you do the math), and I tried to gently suggest that I have a lot of lesbian friends. He seemed off-put. “Lesbians?” he asked. I could tell he was trying to figure out if I was joking about being friends with them or not. He finally got that I was serious. “Of course I’m not friends them,” he replied. “I mean, they’re lesbians. They eat pussy.”

A former professor of mine once outright asked me if I hated women because I’m gay. Astounded, I tried to work out the concept in my head. My 33-year-old date filled in the gap I was missing; gay male culture, historically, has been organized around the desire for an environment completely void of vagina. Perhaps, back in the day, this was about creating a community and trying to stay alive. Perhaps it was about passing – being gay, but tricking the world into thinking you’re straight. And maybe even it was about self-censorship – being gay, but not offending anyone with any of that, god forbid, flamboyant behavior.

But times are a’changin’. Nowadays I’ll go to lesbian bars and actually meet guys I really like. There’s a community of us growing, and we don’t need to isolate ourselves by gender in order to find what we’re looking for.

Stay strong.

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Timberlady

Okay, so I admit it, I like listening to Justin Timberlake. His latest stuff is better and gayer than ever, with fun dance beats that make me want to dance in my room like the white gay boy I am. He’s hot, has a pretty face, and maintains enough scruff to keep me going. And even though, when interviewed, he talks and acts like a tough guy (he talks thug, and has the guy-swagger), like a guy trying to make up for the fact that he was in a boy band and regularly sings falsetto, I still think he’s very attractive and a good singer.

But I have a theory about J. Timbs, and it’s not that I think he’s gay. Actually? I think he’s a tranny.

The song in question is his big one: “SexyBack”. I remember listening to it the first time and thinking, is this really Justin? The beat was great, Timbaland’s voice was hot, and Justin’s modified vocals were interesting. Beyond that, the song is pretty sexual. Me gusta.

So, to repeat: the song is pretty sexual, and I think most people would agree. But what gives it that quality? They’re talking about girls, about getting sexy on, about partying, about how to get a girl. The refrain hit me again, Timbaland’s sultry voice singing: “Come here girl…Come to the back.” Justin’s voice then echoes in my head: “Go ahead, be gone with it…Go ahead, be gone with it.”

And then it occurred to me. Justin’s voice, altered as it is, kinda makes him sound like a girl. Really, it does. And…in fact…the way the refrain works? Kind of makes Timbaland sound like the man, and Justin like the woman in this storyline they’re creating with the lyrics. I know I’m asking a lot of the reader, and most of you might think I’m crazy, but just try and listen to this song with this idea in mind:

Guy at bar: “Come here girl.”
Girl at bar: “Go ahead, be gone with it.”
Guy at bar: “Let me see what you’re working with.”
Girl at bar: “Go ahead, be gone with it.”
Guy at bar: “Look at those hips.”
Guy at bar: “You make me smile.”
Guy at bar: “Get your sexy on.”
Girl at bar: “Go ahead, be gone with it.”

Hmm. So if you’re starting to pick up what I’m putting down, you might counter: What if he’s just “playing” a girl, or pretending to be a girl for the purpose of the storyline?

Good question. I’d still argue that Timberlake isn’t pretending; he’s unintentionally transgendering himself in this song (reidentifying as a woman). Why? Because if he were to pretend to be a girl, that would mean that Timbaland and Justin, for the purposes of the song, were pretending to flirt with each other and hint at the possibility of hooking up. Would that float for Justin Timberlake, the same man who wouldn’t willingly wear the gay label during an AIDS awareness video (December 12, 2001)? No.

And so, in summary, Justin Timberlake is a tranny. I’m sure many members of the trans community are screaming: “Take him back!”

Listen to SexyBack

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AskFannie: Poly Pocket

Dear Fannie,

I'm a young gay male and I've found myself in… kind of an awkward dating situation. I started dating Mike first and we really hit it off, only to find out later that he has a boyfriend, Thad. Mike and Thad had an open relationship agreement, where they can date/sleep with other people when either is out of town (which happens frequently, Thad travels a lot for his work). Mike and I have a great connection and I really like him, so we date/fuck whenever Thad is out. Mike is very open about our relationship with Thad and I've actually met him a couple of times. He's a decent guy, attractive, and sweet… but not the guy I usually go for (he's attractive for his age, but he's in his late 30s and while not entirely out of my usual age range, is kind of up there for me). Mike has suggested we start a poly relationship and has been trying to get me and Thad into each other.

Fannie, what is a poor gayboy supposed to do? Do I ditch the hottie because he can't be all mine? Or do I stick it out and try this poly relationship? I've always considered myself a monogamist… but maybe monogamy is just for straight people.

Thanks,
Montreal Menage-a-trois

Poly-amorous relationships are always a tricky deal, MM. It sounds like Mike and Thad have a fairly open and stable relationship, seeing how they are comfortable with their partners looking for companionship and sex outside of their relationship. You've expressed that you and Mike have a strong connection, and it says a lot that Mike likes you enough to bring you into the fold of his relationship with Thad rather than just keeping you at the fringe as the man on the side (no reference to our wonderful contributor).

I also agree with you -- many queer people have similar sentiments about monogamy being a throwback to hetero couplings. Monogamy occupies a sacred space in contemporary relationship ideals; a place that countless of therapists and counselors have advocated as the most "healthy" choice. Queerness often questions the idea that a person can and should be completely satisfied with one partner. While paired relationships have been successful for many people, monogamy has also limited the romantic experiences of many.

Poly-amorous relationships sound like a great idea in theory, but in actual execution they can be very difficult to maintain. Just think about all of the jealousies, fights, and ego struggles that come with relationships. Adding a third or fourth (etc.) partner to the mix only increases these challenges. However, it also increases the possibilities for an extended support group when the hard times come around.

Now, in regards to your specific situation: It doesn't sound like you're as nearly as interested in Thad as you are in Mike. The golden rule of three-way or multiple partnered relationships is that they are actually three-way. Often times these three-way relationships involve one partner who has relationships with two partners, with little connection between the two partners. This sounds like what you, Mike and Thad have: there isn't a completely mutual, three-way relationship – it's Mike trying to have his cake and eat it too. If you like Mike as much as you say you do, I'd advise trying to get to know Thad more. But if you don't feel a fire between you and Thad, I'd cut the losses and run. Because if you don't love Thad as much as you love Mike, you won't be gaining two partners, you'll just be getting half of one.

++
fannie

send your questions to askfannie@gmail.com
*note: all the names in this post have been changed from their originals.

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For a queer Mexico

So it seems to me that, so far, I am the most (for lack of a better term) straight-edge on this blog. And separately, perhaps not quite queer enough. It's something that a lot of us men-lovin', queer-supportin' ladies deal with. It's the struggle with knowing how to identify personally (generally as the majority), how to support those who identify differently (generally as marginalized identities), how to fight against those who don't support those who identify differently (the punks), and then how to meet a decent person these days (not easy).

Then I think of an increasingly favorable way to cope – just not identifying. What's the point? We all know that we've had urges to bat for both teams. And let's hope it stays that way. So, I'll be the first one on the page to lay it out – I'm in a straight relationship. And yes, you guessed it, with one of those Mexican men I mentioned in the last post. I'm laying it all on the table now because it occurred to me this is an important factor in the way that I digest my experience living in Zacatecas. Transitioning from being a single American to a non-single American woman in Mexico has provided me with very different experiences. But that will probably be addressed more in-depth later.

So what the hell does any of this have to do with gender and queer issues in Mexico? In terms of dialogue? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. That's because the majority of the people here just aren't thinkin' about it. I say the “majority” because it is a rare thing that I come across a little dialogue in my daily, weekly, or even monthly life. If I was living in a bigger city it would be different, but for now I become frustrated when I try to personally or socially address gender (and especially queer) issues. I think I was (surprisingly) spoiled by a certain pocket in U.S. culture and a more personal social circle that was more aware of these topics; I slammed a bit too hard into a metaphoric wall when I moved here.

I met this guy at a carne asada last week and he was describing one of the few gay clubs that exist here and it hit me – I've lived here for almost a year and I have yet to go out to a gay or lesbian bar. Why? Well, like I said, being in a relationship (for the good and the bad) allows you to not feel guilty for having a more relaxed social life. If I actually went out to bars and clubs on a regular basis maybe this detail would be different but I'm still trying to figure out this separation that exists in my social life that I never experienced before. But in the end, it shouldn't be so easy to exclude this part of the Zacatecas night life from one's social scene.

As one queer-identified friend responded when I asked him to come visit me, "Don't Mexicans hate gays?" Then the answer occurred to me: “Don't a lot of people hate gays?” Yes, you will probably find that a large percentage of Mexicans are uncomfortable or in disagreement with a gay lifestyle…but no, Mexicans don't "hate gays". They're not used to it. They have no experience with the idea. They live in a VERY different society than the one that the majority of our readers live in. They're vehemently taught by their political leaders, the church, and their elderly relatives that it's different, weird, and – yes— morally wrong. It's just that here, there is a lack of support, a lack of a place for gay culture in this society. You have to be REALLY out, or REALLY not out at all. There isn't much of an in between for identity growth because the culture just ain't havin' it. I've heard more than once that "gay" actually means having a penthouse and BMW in New York City…it's the idea of being gay that exists here rather than the actual thing.

In a city that is 98% Catholic, you have to give a little credit to the fact that this country just doesn't have the foundation in its politics, culture, or social values to keep in step with the good ol' U. S. of A. One of my co-workers once asked if I thought there were a lot more "gays" (as they are commonly referred to) on campus these days. And I said no, I think there are just more that finally feel comfortable in their own skin. The thing is, folks, a lot of times people think of "queer culture" but what they are really thinking about is "American queer culture". There's no room to talk about things like semantics, adoption rights, or anti-discrimination policies- we gotta get people used to the general idea before we can ask for their support on what we consider to be inherent expectations.

But hey, civil unions were legalized in Mexico City last November. And the truth of the matter is, you gotta start somewhere.

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