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I try to do figure drawing every once in a while to knock the rust off. I just found a group that meets every Wednesday night to draw from a model. I enjoyed my first session very much…

The problem is, I forget I’m gay. I actually forget everything but getting the anatomy right and trying to draw a nice figure. The person stops being a human and becomes an object. A beautiful object I’m trying to draw correctly.

This problem becomes evident when the “object” I’m trying to draw starts talking to me…naked. At that point I become very flustered and think, “Oh my God…she’s going to know I’ve been looking at her intently for 2 hours and she knows I’m gay and she’s going to think I’m a pervert.” I try to remain calm and impassive.

The object says things like, “when do you think the weather is going to warm up” and “I love your shoes”…very benign things like that and I start to sweat. Last week it got so bad that I took off my turtleneck sweater and changed into a short sleeve shirt I had worn to the gym earlier that day. The object said, “yeah…it is nice and warm in here isn’t it”. I then try to ease into the conversation and begin to talk back, but my right brain keeps screaming “you’re talking to a naked woman” while my left brain yells “concentrate on drawing the biceps attachment to the forearm”. Last week I finally got both sides of my brain under control when one of the guys drawing said, “hey…would you mind taping the model?”

You tape a model by tracing with masking tape around the naked person while they are in a pose so that they can take a break and come back to the same position. It usually falls on a woman to do this if the model is a woman, because you obviously have to get really close. Sometimes you even have to tape the inside of a thigh…

“Sure” I said and moved toward the naked object. I’m blushing and sweating. I just can’t help it. I want to play it cool and act like I’m all professional, but I just can’t get the idea that this woman knows a lesbian has been looking at her, drawing her and know is going to tape her inner thigh.

I literally have both my hands in between her legs with the tape when she says, “You smell great, “what’s that you’re wearing?” This has happened before…I wear Calvin Klein’s Obsession ( I know…80s) and even when I sweat, people say I smell good. It’s for that very reason I haven’t changed it since the 80s…I like the compliment…but I did not see it coming while I had my hands between this woman’s thighs.

With a droplet of sweat on the end of my nose, I smile and say, “Calvin Klein Obsession”, and go back to work taping and praying that she will stop talking. “Wow. I really works for you.” No chance…she’s chatting constantly with me now. I give in at that moment and think that if she indeed knows I’m gay she really doesn’t care. It’s very freeing and we spend the last hour chatting about music and that her boyfriend is in a band. I am gay and I am drawing a naked woman. At the end of the session she dons a robe and comes over to my easel and looks at my work. “Nice! She exclaims, and goes to the bathroom to get dressed.

This feeling of peacefulness is only slightly marred when I find out that next weeks model is a “pole dancing teacher”. I have been thinking for a week how you get to be a pole dancing teacher, and am coming up with interesting ideas. Today is in fact Wednesday and tonight I will draw the pole dancing teacher. I have a feeling she will talk to me and I have a feeling I will tape a line between her thighs at sometime in the evening. What I don’t know is how you become a “pole dancing teacher” and I guess that will be one of the conversations of the night.

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I am the only woman in an all male artist studio. I have worked with these guys for 16 years. My office window used to overlook a strip club and there is enough testosterone and alpha-male posturing that I fantasize about bringing an axe to work almost every day. I have had my boss bang on glass to the girls going to strip, and now know not to look when someone says “there’s gum on my pants”. I know what everyone’s poop looks like and what they would like to do to the secretary down the hall.

I walk the tightrope of being the chummy girl-liking lesbian and the feminist that tries in vain to shut down the constant misogynistic banter. My mind splits in two just like that axe cleaving thru the center of someone’s skull.

Don’t get me wrong, an art studio is a great place to work, but the range of conversations swings from what my dog did last night to what your mom did last night. It wears me out and I find myself googling how to dispose of bloody bodies at work.

I’m complaining because the only other female in the office was a hamster I kept on my desk. (I told you it was fun working at an art studio). I’d say hello in the morning and put her in her magic ball to roll around the office. For some reason the guys kept the language down because a female rodent was rolling thru the place…like a little sexual harassment officer checking on everyone.

She kept me from bringing that axe to work…

…and then I found her dead in the cage on Monday morning.

I was devastated. I know…it’s a rodent who’s lifespan maxes out at 2.5 years…I should have seen it coming. Kids flush these things and goldfish down the toilet all the time. I just hadn’t realized how much her little furry heartbeat was my lifeline to staying out of jail for murder. As long as she rolled around the office I would buy hamster treats instead of that axe. And now she’s gone.

The morally correct thing to do would be to buy another rodent. We buried her near the bike path down by the river next to half a dozen other hamsters and gerbils we’ve buried. Yes, I’ve fantasized about killing my coworkers for quite a while and have stunted the urge thru rodent therapy. But something is stopping me from getting another animal.

A part of me thinks I’m still missing my furry little friend and it’s too soon. The other part of me is thinking that buying rodents is not the best way to process office dynamics in an art studio. I seem to be frozen as to what to do next. Hamster or axe? It is a Moebius strip I run around just like my furry friend’s magic ball. Each time I circle thru a corner I fold back on myself without an answer.

It might boil down to cost. The cheapest axe I could find was $18.75. Hamsters and gerbils range $10-20 depending on what kind you get.

I think I might go to Petco at lunch and bargain hunt for a rodent…if they don’t offer me a deal there’s a Home Depot right across the street. I could have a hamster wheel rolling or mug shots taken by the end of the day.


Most of my dreams revolve around me immersed in a math test knowing no answers and having no clothes. I wake from these visions in a cold sweat, thankful that I’m out of school. This morning I woke in a sweat of a different kind…

When my dream starts, I am a lesbian contestant on RuPaul’s Drag race. You laugh, but it was a serious matter. How is a lesbian supposed to compete with drag queens? I wear makeup to funerals and weddings–these girls sleep with false eyelashes on. All night long I sewed fabric and used cosmetics trying to get the right look to impress Michelle Visage on the runway. My super ego was exhausting me by the time I had my high heels on.


The only oasis in this desert of drag was that I got to sit next to my crush, Courtney Act. Yes…she is even prettier up close. Smelling like vanilla sugar cookies, she bestowed hints and chirps of encouragement as I donned a long brunette wig. I was ready. I felt fierce and fishy. And then the music started…

Gentlemen…and lesbian…start your engines, and may the best woma—

Bam. At that point my id shoved my super ego to the hardwood floor and I was whisked away from the runway. It was probably for the best. I was sure to snap an ankle in the stilettos Courtney had chosen for my look, but I was willing to give it my all.

I now found myself in a biker bar. A straight biker bar. I was back to wearing sensible shoes and I quickly surveyed my surroundings. It was one step down from a clan meeting. This would usually be the time in real life where I would crawl into a shadow and quickly find the next exit. I want no trouble, but I look gay so in this bar I had found it. I was back to my lesbian self, but still carried the tingle of self-confidence that RuPaul’s contest had accorded me.


I walked up to the nearest table and threw down my gauntlet. “If I can beat you up, I get to make out with your girlfriend.”

A line of burly, bearded men grinned and accepted my challenge.

In a turn of usual dream events, I remained clothed and had to answer no math questions. I handedly ninja-flipped each and every one of the guys that walked up and then made out with each of their girlfriends. This went on for some time.  I was just about to suggest that one nice blond (as a matter of fact she did look like Courtney Act) go somewhere more private when I felt a sharp pain in my stomach. I woke to find my Labrador standing on my bladder. (She’s a blond lab. Coincidence, I think not.) I was sweating and shaking all over, but not in a bad way.

During the following long cold shower I thought what a great day this was going to be. I felt like a drag queen walking down a runway–ready to beat up or make out with anyone that comes my way.

Check out the guns on these ladies. What I wouldn’t give to watch two professional fighter-lesbians duke it out. I obviously have a lot of pent-up aggression.

MMA: UFC on FOX 8-Carmouche-Andrade

Liz Carmouche TKO’s Jessica Andrade in UFC battle of out lesbians

Outsports: Liz Carmouche scored a TKO in the second round against Jessica Andrade in the first UFC fight featuring two out lesbians Saturday night. It was also the first time a female UFC fight was broadcast on network television.

Jezebel: At the Glamour Women of the Year awards, J. Crew‘s Jenna Lyons thanked her girlfriend, jewelry executive Courtney Crangi, by name during her acceptance speech. This was Lyons’ first public acknowledgement of the relationship since she split from her husband last year. “Nothing worth having is easy,” said Lyons in her speech, before thanking her son, Beckett, “for reminding me that the world revolves around him every day,” and “Courtney, who has shown me new love.” Coming out of the closet at an awards show: so hot ever since Jodie did it.


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