Don't Gimme Your Love- I Don't Want it: This is the Beginning (of the Rest of Your Life)

Yesterday I had an afternoon conversation with a friend of mine about the oddity of particular types of straight ladies.  The kind who poke holes in condoms and lie about birth control in order to lock a man down.  I feel so naive.  Up until a few years ago, I thought this was some myth that idiot straight men came up with to blame women for their "It Doesn't Feel as Good/Just The Tip" antics.

But a few years ago, I had heard a number of stories that were direct confessions.  I couldn't believe it.  I talked with more straight women and they looked at me like I was an idiot. "Yes, it's a thing", they told me after the disclaimer that they, of course, would never do it.  I was shocked.  I felt betrayed, somehow, and kind of grossed out.  It's the kind of thing none of the "confessors" ever confessed to the fathers of their kids.  The kind of confession that happens when straight ladies have one too many glasses of wine and feel daring.  They feel racy already hanging out with a queer, but then, there it is: The thing they've never told anyone.  They can tell me, of course.  Who would I know to tell?


(Pause)

In any case, let's change the tone and focus back to what has been igniting me, as of late, because there is plenty.

I haven't written in a while because of all of the directions things have been going.  Like some out-of-season fireworks display: Exploding and sudden, but beautiful.


While any decision can change your life, any moment can alter or excel it.

More on this, soon.

For now, as the weather thaws and heats and wets, I will tell you that the venomous combination that has been making me walk into walls in the best of ways these days contains:

Denim, leather, lipstick, and melted eyeliner.


(pause)

In the meantime a thank you, once again, to the ever-glorious diva, Big Feedia. Big Freedia has been on my mind due to the recent collaboration with Rupaul on the song Freaky Money. But today I'm listening to a classic. Whether it be because it has always been and forever will be impossible to hear this song and not move/be motivated, or whether it simply speaks the truth about now, the beginning of springtime, where there is, indeed, Azz Everywhere .

Be well; be loved,

k.

(image: By Caleria Cherchi via Untrustyou Tumblr)
(title: A mishmash of Rupaul lyrics that fit)