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My big queer adventure
Feb. 12th, 2010 06:25 pmThe adventure last night went a handful of things, but mostly very well. I was not laughed at for being dressed wrong, or any other reason, really, so that was good.
Maddie and Erin and I walked in, and an adorable demon-tranny-cupid1 took our money and told us to sign up to perform. "But I don't have anything -I mean, I guess I could try to write something in the next three minutes..."
"Sure! Do it!"
Why I let myself do these things is beyond me. Oh right, because I am a total attention whore, that's right.
At any rate, I wrote a mini-monologue/poem thing, and went up and performed it, and people seemed to like it, so that was grand. In between acts, the demon-tranny-cupid and her fellow MC (Erika!) were bouncy and enthusiastic and very fun. And while we're on the subject...
*damn* Erika was hot. Ambiguously gendered (at one point I said "she ...he?" and the response was "whatever!" which is great) and funny and bouncy and slightly self-deprecating, all of which are extremely cute and I like. Oh, and when someone mentioned Arisia, s/he was one of like...three people to cheer, so *major* points there. And so because it's me, as the night goes on, I keep trying to do a little bit of like...the only standard flirtations I know, like the "look at the person then look away as soon as they look at you then sneak a peek back at them" thing.
But yes. The acts were entertaining, the people were nice, and during the break, alas, Maddie and Erin decided that it was time to roll, since it was getting late and we were still about forty-five minutes from home. So, I go ahead and take the chance to go up to Erika and apologize for not being able to be in the vegan meat-substitute market s/he was trying to put together. S/he said it was okay.
...and asked for my contact info!!!
I mean, let's just be giddy-squee, because DUDE! I mean, it's very likely that it was just a general friendly, "hey you should come to more of these events" (I'd love to), but eeee!
So I gave Erika my e-mail, and we bailed, and now I just have to hope that s/he doesn't go ahead and look at my elljay and find out how totally crush-stupid I am, since I'm pretty sure that's not how flirting works. I don't really know, it's been a while since I've flirted with someone and had it actually been a game of flirting, and not just chatting to cool people at the con2.
(And s/he knows I'm poly, so that's super-good, and I mean, I don't necessarily want or expect anything to happen out of this (especially as my dance card is alarmingly full these days) but friggin' *squee*, you know? It is not every day that I successfully make eyes at someone I find attractive.)
At any rate, the monologue I wrote, which is kindof an expansion on my previous entry, since you know, that was on my mind at the time:
They say clothes make the man.
Well...I'm no man. And I definitely do fit the stereotype of the stressed out uber-female going through every article of clothing in her closet, trying to find *just* the right outfit.
But for me, when I open those closet doors, I'm not looking for clothes. I'm looking for a gender.
This top? Totally girly.
These pants? Definitely a guy.
Plaid shirt, braids, and awesome boots? Not quite masculine, but definitely not feminine. Let's be a tomboy today.
And a gentleman tomorrow.
And a goddess the day after that.
But when you strip me down and pull off the chick and the dude and the sir and the mistress and the everything and everyone, what am I left with?
Just me, I guess.
Silly little genderneutral me.
And I'm okay with that, I think.
~Sor
MOOP!
1: I...shy away from the word tranny a lot of the time, but that's the word she was using to describe herself, so I'm gonna go with it.
2: I am oblivious enough at the whole flirting thing that I have had guys ask for my number without me realizing that, yes, they were trying to flirt with me.
Maddie and Erin and I walked in, and an adorable demon-tranny-cupid1 took our money and told us to sign up to perform. "But I don't have anything -I mean, I guess I could try to write something in the next three minutes..."
"Sure! Do it!"
Why I let myself do these things is beyond me. Oh right, because I am a total attention whore, that's right.
At any rate, I wrote a mini-monologue/poem thing, and went up and performed it, and people seemed to like it, so that was grand. In between acts, the demon-tranny-cupid and her fellow MC (Erika!) were bouncy and enthusiastic and very fun. And while we're on the subject...
*damn* Erika was hot. Ambiguously gendered (at one point I said "she ...he?" and the response was "whatever!" which is great) and funny and bouncy and slightly self-deprecating, all of which are extremely cute and I like. Oh, and when someone mentioned Arisia, s/he was one of like...three people to cheer, so *major* points there. And so because it's me, as the night goes on, I keep trying to do a little bit of like...the only standard flirtations I know, like the "look at the person then look away as soon as they look at you then sneak a peek back at them" thing.
But yes. The acts were entertaining, the people were nice, and during the break, alas, Maddie and Erin decided that it was time to roll, since it was getting late and we were still about forty-five minutes from home. So, I go ahead and take the chance to go up to Erika and apologize for not being able to be in the vegan meat-substitute market s/he was trying to put together. S/he said it was okay.
...and asked for my contact info!!!
I mean, let's just be giddy-squee, because DUDE! I mean, it's very likely that it was just a general friendly, "hey you should come to more of these events" (I'd love to), but eeee!
So I gave Erika my e-mail, and we bailed, and now I just have to hope that s/he doesn't go ahead and look at my elljay and find out how totally crush-stupid I am, since I'm pretty sure that's not how flirting works. I don't really know, it's been a while since I've flirted with someone and had it actually been a game of flirting, and not just chatting to cool people at the con2.
(And s/he knows I'm poly, so that's super-good, and I mean, I don't necessarily want or expect anything to happen out of this (especially as my dance card is alarmingly full these days) but friggin' *squee*, you know? It is not every day that I successfully make eyes at someone I find attractive.)
At any rate, the monologue I wrote, which is kindof an expansion on my previous entry, since you know, that was on my mind at the time:
They say clothes make the man.
Well...I'm no man. And I definitely do fit the stereotype of the stressed out uber-female going through every article of clothing in her closet, trying to find *just* the right outfit.
But for me, when I open those closet doors, I'm not looking for clothes. I'm looking for a gender.
This top? Totally girly.
These pants? Definitely a guy.
Plaid shirt, braids, and awesome boots? Not quite masculine, but definitely not feminine. Let's be a tomboy today.
And a gentleman tomorrow.
And a goddess the day after that.
But when you strip me down and pull off the chick and the dude and the sir and the mistress and the everything and everyone, what am I left with?
Just me, I guess.
Silly little genderneutral me.
And I'm okay with that, I think.
~Sor
MOOP!
1: I...shy away from the word tranny a lot of the time, but that's the word she was using to describe herself, so I'm gonna go with it.
2: I am oblivious enough at the whole flirting thing that I have had guys ask for my number without me realizing that, yes, they were trying to flirt with me.