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100 things about me, #15-38:

15. I came out when I was 15. As bisexual. Although, I was bisexual well before I ever came out, or figured it out or whatever. 15 was just the year when that particular word drifted down to my level. I’d never actually heard it before then. And I finally made sense. I had considered, prior to that, the question of whether or not I might be a lesbian, because I found the Playboy magazines stashed under my mother’s bed way more than academically interesting. But, still I would have these long (I mean long, like eight years long) crushes on these guys. I didn’t get it. I felt like I didn’t make any kind of sense at all. Then one day, I was watching In the Life, this fantastic GLBT (the reclamation of the word “Queer” hadn’t yet drifted down to my level) news program that used to play on PBS. And there was something something about bisexual something and I knew I had found my calling. It was my life’s work to frolic with men and women alike in sexual balance and gender harmony. I was saved. From a life of monosexuality. I was overcome with joy. I finally made sense! Whoopee! Hooray!

16. And then it dawned on me that I lived in Lansdale, Pennsylvania, population of seemingly endless streams of homophobic, conservative, Christian (as in Christian Right) terrorists. And there was little hope for my burgeoning sexual calling there. Hence, I must head to Mecca. San Francisco, haven of the queerest of the queer. Where I have lived happily ever after.

17. In the interim, however, I was plagued with bisexual inadequacy issues for the remainder of years 15-18, not feeling “gay enough” to be a fully recognized member of the LGBT.

18. Upon finding that I was no longer a straight person, my only regret was that I no longer had a ‘cause’ to fight for which wasn’t self-serving in some way. I had been passionate about forwarding LGBT people’s rights for a while before I realized that I was an LGBT person. I felt like it gave me a stronger position—to be able to fight for something that didn’t in some way serve my own needs. Like if I was working on civil rights, being a black person; or women’s rights, being a woman. I felt like it seriously weakened my position (in terms of working-on-LGBT rights) that it turned out that I was LGBT, myself.

19. I’ve had serious crushes on almost all of my teachers, from middle school forward. But only the good ones.

20. My favorite candy bar is the Three Musketeers Bar. In a pinch, a Milky Way will do, but only in a pinch. This is important information. I don’t like very many candy bars.

21. I don’t drink coffee, but sugar has the potential to make me laugh and dance and sing.

22. The first tape I ever purchased for myself was Like a Prayer, by Madonna. The first CD I ever owned was Dangerous, by Michael Jackson.

23. I used to love Michael Jackson passionately. I unearthed a diary I owned when I was about eight. Every single entry involves Michael Jackson in one way or another.

24. At present, my thoughts on Michael Jackson can be summed up as follows: One scary, scary man . . . who did, ahem, make some (well, when he was less scary), er, wildly entertaining music which I enjoy to this day.

25. I’m a member of a sexual triad, which started a few years ago. I’m the only member of that triad who has not, at one point or another met Ani Difranco.

26. Ani Difranco is my favorite musician.

27 a. Ani Difranco replaced Billy Joel for that title about six years ago. Billy Joel replaced Michael Jackson, and there really was no one before that.

27 b. The first rock concert I ever went to was a Billy Joel / Elton John concert. It was the Piano Man, tour, I believe. I went with my mother. And I had a fabulous time.

27 c. I am experiencing some embarrassment about the above statements, but as they are true, I feel that I should allow them to stand.

28. I used to come home after school and listen to my mother’s old Frank Sinatra albums. And sing along.

29. I have been told I look like Macy Gray, but I see no resemblance whatsoever.

30. I have no tattoos on my body. None. Nowhere. There are a few reasons for this. (After all, in this day and age, it’s hard not to accidentally get struck by a tattoo. You have to watch out.) I have no tattoos, because when I was in high school, everyone I knew was planning to get a tattoo as soon as they turned eighteen, as a kind of gesture of independence. And I thought that was ridiculous—free from your parents reign, slave to popular trends.

31. Reason number two I have no tattoos on my body: I have some serious commitment phobias. I couldn’t imagine making such a massive decision now that I would know I would have to be stuck with for the entire rest of my life, with little possibility of divorce. Who knows how I might change in the course of the next however many decades (if I’m lucky) till I die? Who knows?

32. Then there was the bit about pain. Namely, I don’t like it. Don’t tend to seek it out, if I can help it.

33. And even when I didn’t think my body was anything that might be included in a sentence along with the word “beautiful,” I kind of thought that bodies in general and my body in particular would be more beautiful without the addition of ink.

34. Now having seen my fair share of extremely gorgeous tattoos, and tattoos which I think people are making really conscious decisions before marrying their bodies to, I allowed myself to speculate what kind of a tattoo I would get were that something I was remotely interested in (which it still is not). I thought I would get the word “joy” tattooed down my back, in as many different languages as I could find.

35. Joy is extremely important to me. I’ve been feeling pretty disconnected from it, lately.

36. When I met the individual who would ultimately be the first individual who was in love with me at the same time I was in love with her, I did not know if she was a man or a woman or none of the above. For sure, I didn’t care.

37. I’m a polyamorist. You should be, too. =) If you’d like more information about polyamory, I’d recommend that you read The Ethical Slut, by Dossie Easton and Catherine Liszt. It’s stupendous.

38. The previous statement contained a moralistic, weak moment, and should be stricken from the record, because I feel uncomfortable when monogamists tell me that I should be like them and I wouldn’t want to make monogamists feel uncomfortable by telling them that they should be more like me. Who am I, anyway, to decide what you do without clothing on and with whom?