Identity blues

lately i'm feeling very fat, Very blob-ish

In a real physical sense because more times than not i find my whole self jiggling obscenely. In response to a dirty joke, my tummy does a complete wave of laughter that starts at my crotch and works it's way up to my breasts, undulating like some West End stripper. Stocking the back storage shelves at the Java Monkey, my arms flap about, propelled by phantom gusts of hurricane winds. In fact, I got so excited about showing off my motorcycle the other day that i slapped myself on the thighs and I felt my whole damned body quake in response, even my eyebrows did some wierd thing that forced me to close my eyes and try and still all this wobbly,fleshly chaos caused by a simple knee slapping.


I'm alse feeling blob-ish in a more insidious abstract way. I am in the midst of a full-on identity crisis. I feel like I don't quite fit into all these labels that are being thrown about. And don't get me wrong, I don't mind labels. They're quite handy little descriptors. If I say that so-and-so is a "Jewish, old-school feminist lesbian" you know exactly what to imagine in your head--there's probably a good bit of body hair and a strong scent of patchouli wafting around in your brain right now. Which some people consider stereotyping, but I think is more a matter of convenience...you say tomato, I say man-hating dyke..whatever.

The point is, as far as labels and I are concerned, I'm an amorphous chunk that can't quite fit into a particular box. And I'm a little frustrated.

Mostly, it centers around the whole femme identity thing. I started doing burlesque, hanging out with these nice, intelligent self-identified femme women and it's been great. But most of the time I feel like I'm some sort of spy, or maybe a tourist. Yes, that's the feeling exactly like I'm visiting Femmeville and find it's native culture fascinating and am doing everything to fit in. You know "when in Rome..." and all that, but I can't help feeling a little overwhelmed and a lot disappointed.

I mean, seriously, does there have to be so much damned TALKING involved? I mean, i realize i'm anti-social to a fault. But I don't think 45 minute conversations about MAC lip pigments are normal. On the other hand, I enjoy make-up, glitter, fishnet stockings and being pretty, but it's certainly not the focus of my existence. To be honest, I felt sexier removing limbs from a tree that fell in my backyard than I have at any moment doing burlesque.

On the other hand..."butch." What the hell does that even mean? I used to imagine a lady with a crew cut sporting flannel, but all of the butch women I seem to know now are cultivating their inner metro-sexual and talk as much, if not more, about fashion (Penguin shirts especially WTF?) than femme women I know.

Can't there be a sexuality box based on being poor and anti-social? Can I be a Dollar Tree femme? Wet n Wild Butch?

And sexuality, jebus christ, I have no idea about what that means for me. I usually go with queer cuz it's a nice big box that only chafes a little. But I don't really feel quite queer. In fact, I think my sexuality is on-par with 85% of the population...I just want to have an orgasm, not particular about how it happens, in fact more times than not I'd rather be taking care of it myself. I *know* that I can get me off in 10 minutes or less and that I will likely not be offended if I don't cuddle myself afterwards. If I should go against my anti-social leanings an divite someone into my bed, my most pertinent question is not if they present masculine or feminine or anywhere in between, but if they can get me off? Sure I appreciate the aesthetic qualities or all sorts of genders....that litle triangle between a grrl's pubes and her thighs, the roughness of a scruffy beard, a boi's smooth muscled back...but none of these things are enough to make me orgasm...maybe I'm just not cerebral enough...i dunno.

I haven't slept with everybody on the gender spectrum, but I've sampled a bit, enough to know that I'm not straight or queer or anything, just selfish.

It's all about me, me, me. Which brings to mind another pressing issue that's been brewing since one of my college Af-Am studies courses. We once got into a class debate about blackness. And how one of the hallmarks of blacknes across the African Diaspora is group-communal-thought. How, because of our obvious visual presentation we would always strive to see ourselves in the larger society and consider the progress of one "successful" individual as an asset to the group. In other words, if Oprah gets to schmooze with Presidnet Bush over appetizers worth more than my existence that my grandmother in Plainfield, NJ will feel the same pride and sense of accomplishment that some orphaned kid picking through a landfill might feel in say Darfur.

BULLSHIT!

I've sooo long since lost that kinda groupthink mentality. And I can guarantee you that someone like Clarence Thomas gives less than a shit about what a liberal,leftist, slutty,poor black girl in Lithonia, Georgia thinks of him or any of his upwardly mobile, bland cronies.


I was raised to be proud of my heritage, but the whole idea was to educate yourself, get a good job and let the color of your goo-gobs of money apologize or even mask your color...all this with an undertone of "don't forget where you came from" and "never trust white people." Huh? It's kinda confusing to be told (all in the same breath) to basically aspire to the social standing of people you should never trust, all while maintaining a double, triple, quadruple consciousness. No wonder I dropped out of the system. The game is waaay too fucking confusing.

I'm proud of my heritage, I love being so visibly different in a society that values bland homgeneity. But I'm ANTI-SOCIAL. People off all kinds are a disappointment to me. My people say homophobic things around me cuz I pass for straight. And queer people say racist shit to me and token-ize and exoticize me to the fucking hilt. I'm over PEOPLE.

But i still have that desire to fit so neatly into something. Without feeling chafed and annoyed or like I'm about to burst through and sully everyone around me.

buttfuckit
i'm tapped