I'd like to present exhibit A. Go ahead. Get it out of your system. I had some rather... transitional... years in my life. Let's begin with grades 1-5. Please open your hymnal to Chapter "I Went to Catholic School & Never Owned a Brush Until 1989". If you trace from 12 o'clock to 5'oclock you will see the evolution of the inner dykedom that was always laying low. From the pixie to the mullet (that stuck around for 2 years and we added blue glasses that made me look akin to "Tootsie") then we began... the perm. What I'm sure my mother thought of as an easy way to get past dealing with a surly 9 year old that it took a cataclysmic event to get me out of bed much less to brush my hair. There was a time where my mom was trying to get me to wear a dress for picture day and I was not having it (if I remember correctly I was very attached to my corduroys in an array of colors). So in protest I ran out the door wearing nothing (ok, that's a little more gay man in nature, but a sign none the less). By 6th grade I entered public school, hit puberty and since I had been attending catholic school/was fat most of my clothes were from the big women's department/my mother's closet (please see 6 o'clock to 8 o'clock)... It was like a trifecta. During said time of transition and what can only be deep
ly repressed bullying that I thought... you know what would make this better? I'm going to develop a weirdly deep obsession with Barbra Streisand... AND for a civics class project where we make our own country complete with rivers, cities etc. I'm going to make one entirely devoted to HER. Exhibit B: Streisland. This picture is actually from a couple of months ago. My mother still has it in her house. Shortly after that I actually wrote a short story about how I was actually Babs' daughter she had to get rid of and then we reunited. I know... I vom a little too. Then we go to aprrox 8 o'clock on the frame of shame. This was freshman year of high school. I joined a softball team and started performing with the drama club... 9 o'clock, I started entertaining people, whether we were in the middle of class or not and had earned the nickname of 'Rosie' for Rosie O'Donnell . By senior year I had s
successfully had 'crushes' on what are now 3 gay male friends I love dearly, but now for their shared appreciation for semi-good wine. And then I got engaged to a woman and the cat was out of the bag. HEYOOOOOO.
I'd like to present exhibit A. Go ahead. Get it out of your system. I had some rather... transitional... years in my life. Let's begin with grades 1-5. Please open your hymnal to Chapter "I Went to Catholic School & Never Owned a Brush Until 1989". If you trace from 12 o'clock to 5'oclock you will see the evolution of the inner dykedom that was always laying low. From the pixie to the mullet (that stuck around for 2 years and we added blue glasses that made me look akin to "Tootsie") then we began... the perm. What I'm sure my mother thought of as an easy way to get past dealing with a surly 9 year old that it took a cataclysmic event to get me out of bed much less to brush my hair. There was a time where my mom was trying to get me to wear a dress for picture day and I was not having it (if I remember correctly I was very attached to my corduroys in an array of colors). So in protest I ran out the door wearing nothing (ok, that's a little more gay man in nature, but a sign none the less). By 6th grade I entered public school, hit puberty and since I had been attending catholic school/was fat most of my clothes were from the big women's department/my mother's closet (please see 6 o'clock to 8 o'clock)... It was like a trifecta. During said time of transition and what can only be deep
ly repressed bullying that I thought... you know what would make this better? I'm going to develop a weirdly deep obsession with Barbra Streisand... AND for a civics class project where we make our own country complete with rivers, cities etc. I'm going to make one entirely devoted to HER. Exhibit B: Streisland. This picture is actually from a couple of months ago. My mother still has it in her house. Shortly after that I actually wrote a short story about how I was actually Babs' daughter she had to get rid of and then we reunited. I know... I vom a little too. Then we go to aprrox 8 o'clock on the frame of shame. This was freshman year of high school. I joined a softball team and started performing with the drama club... 9 o'clock, I started entertaining people, whether we were in the middle of class or not and had earned the nickname of 'Rosie' for Rosie O'Donnell . By senior year I had s
successfully had 'crushes' on what are now 3 gay male friends I love dearly, but now for their shared appreciation for semi-good wine. And then I got engaged to a woman and the cat was out of the bag. HEYOOOOOO.
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