(no subject)

Last night was a rockin' party for Carly's birthday. She was totally tipsy, I was totally sober, and there was totally a 4 month old pug at the party who got passed from lap to lap ALL night. All of these things, GREAT. Me and Carly made a vow to always be neighbors. I decided my first animal in my own place will be a pug, named Buschemi after Steve Buscemi. That guy is a great actor, I love him, and he's got buggy eyes and weird wrinkles like a pug. Then I can call my puppy Boo for short. Additional puppies will be named Rodney (after R. Dangerfield) and Bette (Bette Davis' eyes were freakin' weird).

So, on the way home from the party, my voice started sounding like I was entering a male puberty. This spawned a discussion between Shan and I about how we were both weird kids who totally envied people who lost their voice when they got sick. And how we always wished we would, because you'd come into school and everyone would be all, "Ohh, you can't talk? Poor baby." And how crazy is it that you typically don't lose your hearing or sight for a day, but you can lose your voice? There's the whole symbolic part of being silenced, too. Wow.

And guess what? I woke up this morning, and I've lost my voice.

::looks under the bed for it::

clearly, bisexuality DOES NOT double my chances

Also, was chatting with Shan last night, telling him how being pansexual is not always easy. All the kinds of people I dig assume I dig some other kind when they first meet me. IF I really had to break down my sexuality into sections, I'd say I was a quarter lesbian, a quarter hetero girl, and half transsensual. Some people would roll their eyes and tell me, "Oh, whatever, just slap a bisexual sticker on that sucker and call it a day." But that doesn't feel right. I feel like when I hang with queer kids, I want to assert my queerness. And when I'm at a primarily hetero function, I'd like to be able to subtly let it be known that, dude, I dig guys, too.

Wah.

People shouldn't assume stuff. Or maybe I should just start wearing a sign that says, "Chances are, you're my type."