“Oh, but I am lesbian, so I can’t have long nails.”

Sometimes I wish I could take back my attempts at gay humor when talking to what I know is straight people.

I was invited  – or rather I was volunteered to be invited – to a small fashion show a week ago, at a local designer who were to showcase their collection of non functional evening clothes. Well, if you happen to be one of those who don’t mind having your breasts and almost everything else on public display, then I guess it were functional and just your thing.

But I am sure it is not something that you use for the first date, or jump into when you need to do some instant shopping at the local mini-mart.

Anyway, I am sure you know what I mean.

It seems like designers make one collection to get people to come and see what they can make – and then have a folder that they discreetly hand over of what it is they really is interested to sell you.

Or it could be that even when I know my day to day fashion ABC, am on rather unknown land when it comes to the world behind fashion and fashion branding.

But at the event, that actually were interesting and where we – the so-called “invited” – could mingle and talk to the models and designers about the work that have been created for the day – and of course to the PR company who arranged it all. And plenty of alcohol and manicure opportunities among other.

Yes, you read it right.

So if you wanted a manicure, then you could get one too while sipping something with bubbles in it. I know what it is, the name of it just slipped my mind (and I am too lazy to look it up now). Pink, bubbles, taste of strawberry and is sweet.

It’s not often these days that I paint my nails when going to work, or when going out. Most of the time I stick with a clear base coat and that is that. The colored nail polish that I admittedly have at home mostly take up space in the top drawer in the fridge. You know for the day when I really need to impress a serious date, or attend a posh event of some sort.

A manicure and get your nails painted by a professional didn’t sound that bad when I were there and now were asked if I wanted to try.

So up in the chair, feet up and relax while someone else were pampering my hands. Not a bad assignment after all. Especially when I haven’t had anything done in ages now.

While she put a nice dark red color on my nails we obviously talked about this and that. Mostly about cuticle and such. She nicely in a professional voice mentioned that I had very gorgeous hands, but that I shouldn’t cut my nails so short and that it would be more fitting for my hands and fingers if they were a little longer.

I then answered her in a part attempt of a joke “Oh, but I am lesbian, so I can’t have long nails.”.

She at that point were so (un)lucky to have my hand in hers, half kneeling in front of me while I were sitting in a chair looking down at her, realized that I were looking into her eyes with half a cooky smile. She obviously didn’t expected an answer like that at all and I guess expected that I would have confirmed her in what she said, looked down, only to realize that instead of looking at my face and eyes, looked at *hm* something else, so she hurried looked away at something else – anything else(!!) than me, while I could see her face turn red.

The last 5 minutes of that manicure were rather awkward – and silent.

I always thought it was a funny little icebreaker with such a gay joke. But I have recently become aware that it can be worthwhile to get a feeling of the audience. It is not everyone who can take gay jokes – LGBT supporters or not. In fact, it can go in two directions, both who are equal unbearable. Either they completely shut down – like the nail lady. Or alternatively they jump onto the joke and turn it so much around that I end up embarrassed instead.

I like it when people politely laugh at my jokes and then talk about something else, right?…

Dreams

I have had some crazy dreams lately.

A few days ago I dreamed that I witnessed a plane crash that took of the top of the place where I am living, but left my own apartment unharmed, where everything else around me looked like a place of disaster.

Didn’t analyze that dream.

So last night I had one that felt so real, that I almost had to recheck where I were when I woke up.

This time it were some rather familiar settings, because I dreamed about the last day – or one of – in San Francisco where I took both my bachelor and masters, and still miss my time or rather the city and life I had there at that time.

With the exception of the first month, then I shared apartments with other female students, straight, lesbian and everything in-between, and that was one of my crazier periods of my life – In a good way I mean.

It’s not that I am one of these who always wish that they could go back to uni, well, okay maybe some part of me do once in a blue moon, but I am where I am now and I am for most parts quite happy about my life now. But it could be fun to revisit if you had a time machine to spare.

The last two years were shared with 3 other lesbian women – or rather young women, compared with today, who at the same time had their minds set for the future, and I think that I learned more about life,  myself and simply being a woman with them, than with any other in that period of my life.

Living with them who by far were smarter than me, or at least more outspoken, argumentative and weren’t shy to stand up for what they believed in, often doing all that while farting on the toilet – yes guys. Women tend to do that too!

I don’t know why, but when I think back to the last year, I always tend to remember one of us yelling from the toilet, with the door fully open, continuing whatever conversation that we had with each other and I guess that was quite typical in our small group. No one wanted to miss a thing or a conversation, so doors were kept open almost all the time. Well, with the exception of bedrooms while sleeping – or doing hmm “other” things.

We had plenty of drama and loud verbal arguments with each other too, where one or more for a few days refused to speak to each other, but most of the time, or at least the way I recall it, then there were more good days and periods than bad – and we did stay together for almost two years.

It was quite a change from the first year where I shared a place with a mixed Taiwanese / Japanese girl who were all “must study hard” business, and who had no time for fun or getting to know the city. I don’t know what happened to her, because I lost contact with her the moment I moved out, and did have the feeling that she didn’t like me much either.

But maybe I weren’t that good a roommate either at that time. My mom had cut me of, and demanded that no one in the family supported me, so dad through my sister and brother helped me out in secret, but in constant fear that she found out about that he helped me. My dad being twice my moms size (in both ways) could get awful scared of mom. The support ban lasted almost the first whole year, and only ended when my brother casually told my mom a lie and said to her that I had to do stripping to support myself because of her. I think everyone in Singapore could hear a “Gaah!” that day.

So everything from trying to learn a new city to be on my own and getting things stretched far enough to live by, then I guess that as a roommate, then I weren’t the perfect ideal for someone who had their things together and focused on what they wanted.

The time between the first roommate and then the last group were a mix of all races and sexual interests, that in many ways were fun, interesting and heartwarming. Or at least that is how I choose to recall it.

I were never that hard set on studying, because compared to what I was used to from back in Singapore among other, then studying in California could be done with a blind eye and still get good grades. Besides, one of my earlier teachers said this “You don’t learn about life and your place in it while studying it. Live your life and then study it.”. I guess I took that rather literal.

Back to my group here. Moving in with them were to say it politely, an earth shattering and mental experience to me. I were up until that day, rather hmm, wouldn’t call it shy, but maybe more “private” who needed a lot of personal space, at least the one who got to see any part of my body outside a beach were lovers or would be lovers.

To experience other women who openly shared the morning toilet, and could walk around in only a bra or topless in the kitchen in the morning, were to me mind blowing – in a nonsexual way. There were nothing sexual about it in any way whatsoever and I were a person who would not leave my bedroom without being fully clothed – or close to it. Exposing anything to anyone were not on my mind at all. So I did have an OMG-what-kind-of-place-is-this out of the body experience when I first move in.

That is until the day, about a week after I moved in, where “L”, said “Sweetie, you know it is not okay to occupy the toilet in the morning. There is only one, so we need to share for all of us to make it”.

One morning, a few days after, I dared myself to not lock the toilet door while peeing, and lo and behold. Who is walking in with a toothbrush in her mouth? “L”, and began to exploring her zits in the bathroom mirror while I were trying to finish so I could get out in a hurry. I don’t know about you, but I am not able to pee when I tense up, so all I could do were to sit there while trying to hide in my hair.

The first months with them were a rather steep learning curve in personal development for me, but over time I got used to what they found normal – I am not sure many other did – and even managed to get comfortable in it all. So yea, my period with them is in many ways greatly missed because despite the thousands of arguments and close to hair pulling fights there were there, then I loved living at that place with them all and their occasional girlfriends.

Besides I would not have known a fraction of San Francisco without them.

Where are my roommates now? One of them is a typical Noe Valley stay at home (lesbian) soccer mom, who until recently did PR for a rather large IT company that you *hm* know quite well. Another is in jail for drug possession of some sort. She never got an internship or a job where she wanted. That is actually interesting because of the four of us, she were the one with the best grades and the one we all thought who would make it big. The last one and maybe the most normal and balanced of us, is doing everything right and doing it quite well professionally in NYC while balancing the difficult task of 2 adoring children and managing a career in a predominantly male oriented job. So good for her. Well, and then there are me.

I am what? Getting sued??

A few days ago I recieved a “remove this blog post or get sued” notice from an angry and emotionally hurt male and Christian Singaporean.

So am I surprised? Nah not really, but jut surprised that someone actually can get so emotionally distressed by that post.

Anyway…More importantly, I just learned that an LGBT jogathon – I guess that is a run where you don’t compete to win… hmm!.. – was canceled a week ago, because the Police denied the organizers a permit with the reason that LGBT events in Singapore should only be held at Speakers Corner. Speakers Corner is a very small area in a park called Hong Lim Park that is located in central Singapore, that is impossible to organize a run in because the area is too small for events like that.

I guess that I can run or jog around the park in less than 4-5 minutes.

Oh yes, if you haven’t noticed it, then I have added an email where you can contact me, It’s on the About Me page – I mean if you want to sue me – or better yet, send me lots! of fan mails but is too shy to do it in public. I have had a few requests for other ways to contact me on, so yes! I do listen to your requests.

So what will happen with the lawsuit? To be followed up when there are any news, but my guess is not much because I got better lawyers than most.

 

 

 

 

 

Nothing new from my lesbian life

It’s not that I have been busy the last days, well, yes, I have had work to do, so it is not all holiday season for me but my lesbian life is awful straight normal at the moment.

You know, go to work, pay taxes, pay all outstanding invoices, update OKcupid/Pinksofa profile, crush on unreachable profiles on other dating sites.

Do heaps of laundry

Shopping

Oh yes and hunt down spiders in the apartment! Ugh!!

A normal life nothing worth blogging much about.

But I did finally get around to see Orange Is The New Black and oh my gosh, how could I have missed that show??

Initially I felt that I in no way would think that a show about a female prison could be interesting, so for the last year I have been unreachable from peer pressure and internet gossip about the show – that is until now.

So for reasons that I am not getting into here, I began watching it from season 2, then moved back to see season 1 and just to make sure that I got everything, watched season 2 again after season 1 of OITNB.

OITNB

It’s also a welcome distraction to the short lived Lip Service that I loved more than L-Word. Lip Service, beside having some of the most awkward sex scenes, were great, maybe because I like the European way of making some characters feel more alive – and having Heather Peace in it did help too.

Like Lip Service and L Word, I do not care much about the main character in OITNB. Piper is to me irritating. Period. Hmm maybe it is because she got the attention of Alex that I don’t like her, or maybe it is just because I previously have met people with her “I’m so cute that I want it all and can’t decide what I would like to have” character and it simply annoys me. But if I did meet a person like that on a single Friday night, I (a SINGLE me) would end up going home with her – no matter what I say here – and only to regret it because she would surely be a pillow princess or something worse.

Or I just don’t like bi-sexual yo-yo’s who haven’t decided what it is that they really want.

Yes I would like to say that I were more open minded, but Piper having difficulties deciding between Alex and what’s his name, Larry. Really??

Can it really be THAT difficult to decide between stable boring Larry and Alex who will lead you in so much trouble but is oh so sexy? The way the characters are portrayed, then even straight women who never had a single lesbian thought in their heads would end up choosing Alex. So what is her problem? That she needs to be liked by everyone?

Speaking of Alex. Very straight and not so gay Laura Prepon (should never go back to blonde hair) who is playing Alex, gives my gaydar a really difficult time. I know she is straight because I met her some years ago in Los Angeles, and everything about her screams gay to me.

She is also the only American actress that I have ever met in real life, if I remember it right.

But what is it really with these shows? L-Word, Lip Service and Orange Is The New Black?

Not one great Asian (of any origin) character that I as a proud lesbian Asian woman can identify with or even feel that I can have a small tv-crush on.

What is wrong with the producers and script writers of these shows? Are they just plain ignorant or are they wearing the same glasses as those Hollywood producers who only can place Asian female actresses in roles named “Asian Escort #1”, or “Sexy Nurse #5”? And no, I am not asking for another stereotypical ninja kickass Nikita, or a “I’m too good a Doctor to be measured among mortals” Dr. Yang, but simply a balanced well written character who coincidentally is Asian too.

Well I guess that will only happen the day we get a lesbian show that is directed and produced in an Asian country – Yes I would absolutely love that it could be made in Singapore, but my guess is that that will only happen after a show have been produced in Hong Kong, Thailand, Taiwan and/or Japan – and then only after a cheesy Korean lesbian drama have been made and aired for at least 4 years.

“Your car is so lesbian”

My brother is so nice to bring the car for service for me.

Not because that he suddenly had a moment of brotherly love, but because he sold his car and he for the first time in years is without a car.

FOR TWO WHOLE WEEKS!!

Talk about culture shock.

That is when he heard that I needed to get my car for service on Monday, that he saw the opportunity to help his little sister out and out of the blue offered to help me out, based on that he then could use it for the rest of the week.

First text I got from him after I guided him to the spare keys over the phone.

“This must be the nicest smelling car in Singapore”.

10 minutes later.

“This car is so gay!”

2 minutes later again.

“I feel emasculated driving your car!”

“You need more manly music!”.

(I will try to learn to take a screen-shot of my phone conversations one day)

It is true. I have for some time haven’t had a single male singer or band with a male singer near my car lately – and no it is not because I prefer (or an agenda) to only listen to female artists or don’t like male musicians, but my collection in the car is currently a mix of Uh Huh Her, Katy Perry, Shania Twain, Lykke Li and some k-pop and j-rock female bands that I can’t recall the name of right now.

Besides it would be just weird to listen to a male voice singing “I Kissed A Girl”.