straight girl soaps up
"And I asked Henry, my bartender friend
if I should bother dating unfamous men
And Henry said, 'You're lucky to even know me.
You're lucky to be alive.'"
Isn't that brilliant? In the middle of a carwash, flipping through my tired books of CDs, I rediscovered Liz Phair and fell in love again. Of course, it started to rain ten minutes after I drove out of the lot -- and not sprinkle, mind you, but real "the Rapture is coming" buckets -- and normally I would have felt oddly discouraged about having driven to Brooklyn and paid for my car to be covered in water beforehand but I totally didn't mind. I felt, in fact, like I was on a date with an old girlfriend. Oh, Liz!
Speaking of old girlfriends, I have done something very, very, very bad and I don't know how to un-do it. (Which is such a lie, by the way, because I know exactly what I need to do and am just going to pretend that I need advice because I'm embarrassed and don't want to own up to it.)
My ex-girlfriend, Shannon, used to introduce me as "Straight Girl" and her best friend, Ursula, always had this small fake smile on her face when she saw me and once I even overheard her saying to Shannon, "I've just never seen you with a woman who acts so straight." The truth is that I was head over heels in love with Shannon and had been since we met in 1999 (I'll save you from the poetry I wrote); the truth is also that I'd only ever been with guys before Shannon (except for my high school girlfriend, Sarah, who doesn't count, I think, because we met at an all-girls high school and the choice for object of my affection was between a Coach Springer and Sarah. Coach Springer eliminated himself by saying things to me like, "I can tell that the wheels in your head spin around a lot" and generally doing gross things like encouraging his volleyball team to practice is binkini bottoms. By comparison, Sarah looked like an Adonis, one who just happened to be wearing a kilt and penny loafers.) Outside of the relationship that Shannon and I had when we were alone, I felt overwhelmed by insecurities about not being "gay enough" and wanting to prove it.
Shannon and I dated on and off for more than a year and towards the end of that year, I met Robert, who, at the time, seemed like a nice guy who was irrlevent because he lived on a different continent. So, when I assumed that nothing would come of spending time with him, I described him to Shannon as, um, a woman. Named Ro. And I thought, "Maybe if she and her friends know that I date other women, they'll start introducing me by my real name."
Fast-forward two-and-a-half years. Shannon and I are still good friends, although she's moved to Connecticut and we see each once every few months, at best. I am still with Robert and have told Shannon that I have a boyfriend but I've never mentioned his name.
Shannon: So, how's...your boyfriend?
Sarah: Oh, great. He is doing really well, we're happy, I'm going to visit him next week in the city where he lives.
I should come clean with her.
if I should bother dating unfamous men
And Henry said, 'You're lucky to even know me.
You're lucky to be alive.'"
Isn't that brilliant? In the middle of a carwash, flipping through my tired books of CDs, I rediscovered Liz Phair and fell in love again. Of course, it started to rain ten minutes after I drove out of the lot -- and not sprinkle, mind you, but real "the Rapture is coming" buckets -- and normally I would have felt oddly discouraged about having driven to Brooklyn and paid for my car to be covered in water beforehand but I totally didn't mind. I felt, in fact, like I was on a date with an old girlfriend. Oh, Liz!
Speaking of old girlfriends, I have done something very, very, very bad and I don't know how to un-do it. (Which is such a lie, by the way, because I know exactly what I need to do and am just going to pretend that I need advice because I'm embarrassed and don't want to own up to it.)
My ex-girlfriend, Shannon, used to introduce me as "Straight Girl" and her best friend, Ursula, always had this small fake smile on her face when she saw me and once I even overheard her saying to Shannon, "I've just never seen you with a woman who acts so straight." The truth is that I was head over heels in love with Shannon and had been since we met in 1999 (I'll save you from the poetry I wrote); the truth is also that I'd only ever been with guys before Shannon (except for my high school girlfriend, Sarah, who doesn't count, I think, because we met at an all-girls high school and the choice for object of my affection was between a Coach Springer and Sarah. Coach Springer eliminated himself by saying things to me like, "I can tell that the wheels in your head spin around a lot" and generally doing gross things like encouraging his volleyball team to practice is binkini bottoms. By comparison, Sarah looked like an Adonis, one who just happened to be wearing a kilt and penny loafers.) Outside of the relationship that Shannon and I had when we were alone, I felt overwhelmed by insecurities about not being "gay enough" and wanting to prove it.
Shannon and I dated on and off for more than a year and towards the end of that year, I met Robert, who, at the time, seemed like a nice guy who was irrlevent because he lived on a different continent. So, when I assumed that nothing would come of spending time with him, I described him to Shannon as, um, a woman. Named Ro. And I thought, "Maybe if she and her friends know that I date other women, they'll start introducing me by my real name."
Fast-forward two-and-a-half years. Shannon and I are still good friends, although she's moved to Connecticut and we see each once every few months, at best. I am still with Robert and have told Shannon that I have a boyfriend but I've never mentioned his name.
Shannon: So, how's...your boyfriend?
Sarah: Oh, great. He is doing really well, we're happy, I'm going to visit him next week in the city where he lives.
I should come clean with her.
posted by Sarah at 1:24 PM
1 Comments:
Ro? As in Rowena? or Roberta?
This is asinine. You don't have to tell her, it is important enough that you are honest with yourself.
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