Yes, I'm politically incorrect
Before you read this, I just want to warn everyone that there are some footnoted-y parts to this post. These are private jokes. Don’t judge me for them, because I can guarantee that there are going to be three people out there who find them hilarious. Or semi-funny. Or just pretty loser-y. Whatever.
Oh, I should also warn everyone that I’m on a new kick where I add “y” to words. Because clearly passing my doctoral exams did not increase my vocabulary. But I’m still all smart-y and fancy-y. Or something.
Moving to the actual post.
I’m not quite sure how to announce this, but I feel as though I ought to get it off my chest: I’m pretty sure I’m a gay man.
Stuck in the body of a straight woman.
Case in point: how did I choose to end my weekend? I watched Newsies. It’s a musical. Because I love musicals. I might also have this movie memorized, and sometimes I sing the songs when I’m alone. And sometimes when I'm with other people. I also quote heavily from it. Between my love of musicals, my “questionable” taste in 80s music (please to be seeing this post), and my fascination/obsession with Elvis, I’m pretty sure that I come off as gay.*
On paper at least.
Does being a female make these factors of my life more acceptable, or just weirder? I’m going to go with not so much weird as it is hot. Who wouldn’t want someone who knows all the words to a fantastic Disney musical from the early 90s? Who would object to that, and on what grounds? **
So judge away, all you Judge-y Von Holierthanthous. I’ve come to terms with who I am, what I love, and how I express said love. Wouldn’t the world be a better place if we all liked ourselves for just who we are?*** And I’m pretty sure I just proved my larger point.
*Not, as Chuck Noblet would say, ass-thumping, but still. Yes, I’m going to hell.
**On the grounds of Brooklyn.
***See how I didn’t use the phrase “fond of”? Because it got me into trouble last time.
Oh, I should also warn everyone that I’m on a new kick where I add “y” to words. Because clearly passing my doctoral exams did not increase my vocabulary. But I’m still all smart-y and fancy-y. Or something.
Moving to the actual post.
I’m not quite sure how to announce this, but I feel as though I ought to get it off my chest: I’m pretty sure I’m a gay man.
Stuck in the body of a straight woman.
Case in point: how did I choose to end my weekend? I watched Newsies. It’s a musical. Because I love musicals. I might also have this movie memorized, and sometimes I sing the songs when I’m alone. And sometimes when I'm with other people. I also quote heavily from it. Between my love of musicals, my “questionable” taste in 80s music (please to be seeing this post), and my fascination/obsession with Elvis, I’m pretty sure that I come off as gay.*
On paper at least.
Does being a female make these factors of my life more acceptable, or just weirder? I’m going to go with not so much weird as it is hot. Who wouldn’t want someone who knows all the words to a fantastic Disney musical from the early 90s? Who would object to that, and on what grounds? **
So judge away, all you Judge-y Von Holierthanthous. I’ve come to terms with who I am, what I love, and how I express said love. Wouldn’t the world be a better place if we all liked ourselves for just who we are?*** And I’m pretty sure I just proved my larger point.
*Not, as Chuck Noblet would say, ass-thumping, but still. Yes, I’m going to hell.
**On the grounds of Brooklyn.
***See how I didn’t use the phrase “fond of”? Because it got me into trouble last time.
posted by Ace | 12:52 PM
2 Comments:
Hey -- there is NO shame in knowing all of the words to Newsies -- even if you're a straight woman. I personally think that anyone who can sing their heart out to "Santa Fe" and "The World Will Know" is totally rad-y. I'll even wager the grounds of Brooklyn on that.
And, P.S., I saw a boy who looked like Spot Conlin at my favorite coffee shop the other day. He didn't have a sling shot, but he was still pretty effing hot nonetheless. I almost went up to him and spat in my hand, but then I realized he wouldn't get it and would probably just think I was a freak of the week. Sigh-y.
"I say, that what you say . . . is what I say!"
And Spot isn't so much hot as he is short.
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