Homo a Go-Go

Remember when the song “I Kissed a Girl” first came out? It was the mid-90’s, right? And the song was cute and pop and ridiculously hard to get out of your head. Fast forward to 2008 and again a cute and pop song by the same title had come out (no pun intended) and I can’t get it out of my head. So much so that it’s playing on my Myspace Account on the other open screen-not so much that I’ll actually download the damn thing because, let’s face it, the song is NOT that great.

Nonetheless, the title. I kissed my first girl a LONG time ago. I’d say around grade school during a sleep over at a certain someone’s home. She will not be mentioned because she’s married now and blah blah blah and I didn’t kiss her. I don’t think; it was another girl. I kissed a girl again in college and another few after college. Mostly I kissed boys because that’s what you do when you’re from Toledo, Ohio. Apparently Columbus has a kickin’ gay scene. If I went to Ohio State things could’ve been different…

Anyway, I’ve been kissing the same girl, Lady M, for almost three weeks now, I suppose. And as Katy Perry and that 90’s singer sang, “I kissed a girl and I liked it” I don’t regret it though (they seem to regret their kisses) and I actually crave her kisses that are what crack must be to an addict. Yes, I did compare kissing Lady M to smoking crack although I’ve never ever smoked a crack rock. I’ve watched enough documentaries and Spike Lee movies to know that crack makes people a bit crazy and they are always looking for their next high. It’s kind of like that. The rush of her kiss is immediate and intense. It starts at my lips and in an instant sends electric pulses to every nerve ending in my body. It makes me feel alive and dead at the same time. It’s exhilarating and scary and my mind spins while it’s happening-I can barely breathe. And the second the kiss has ended I crave, I need another. It’s incredibly wonderful that she seems to feel the same about my kisses and we’re both admitted addicts.

One of my biggest issues around truly coming out now was that in Toledo I was never really comfortable being myself. I’ve dated so many different races of people and always got the stares on the street or in the mall back home. In New York, people barely blink an eye if an interracial couple walks by. Well, in Harlem they do, but it’s Harlem. Seriously, though. Today I saw a Hispanic girl holding hands with an Asian girl and in the next seat over a black man with a Hispanic man. Last Wednesday(WednesGAY) Lady M. and I went out with some friends for dancing and drinking. There were two interracial lesbian couples out that night-not including Lady M and myself…

One of my favorite things about NYC is the acceptance of people, all people, no matter their anything. I’m not into labels. I never have been-not even designer labels. While I tend to not feel the need to define myself-rather to categorize myself-I understand the need to do so. I’m just done hyphenating, really. Black, Female, Lesbian…Lesbian, Female, Black…Female, Lesbian, Black…I mean, which order?! And I’m completely off track.

Point is…I’m tired. It’s 3AM, and I’m falling for an incredibly remarkable girl who’s kisses make me weak.


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