I Can Take Care Of A House,

When I Was A Teenager I Would Lock Myself In The Bathroom For Hours, Bouffanting My Hair Like Patty Duke And Trying To Recreate Barbra Streisand's Flawless Eyeliner, Only To Comb It All Out And Wash It All Off Before Stepping Out Into The World A Butchish Bisexual Teen.

I Knew That If I Wanted To Stop Being A Pushover I Had To Get Comfortable With Small Rejections Myself. That Took Some Work, But Because Of It I Can Now Say No To Other People With A Clear Conscience.

I Thought To Be Feminine Was To Give In To Straight Culture, Or The Beauty Standard, But In My Heart I Had A Flair For Fashion And Style. They Were Passions I Kept Secret Because I Didn't Understand I Could Love Clothes And Hair And Makeup And Still Like Girls.

Just Like My Straight Friends, I Am Repeatedly Asked When I Plan To Have Kids, And Have Been Told Many Times, By Various Branches Of My Bloodline, That "even Lesbians Can Have Babies These Days."

My Mother Told Me Homer Ditto Was Not My Father. Nope. Mom Had Had A Fling With Some Other Guy Who Was My Dad. Some Dude Who Didn't Stick Around Too Long Who Mom Was Happy To Get Rid Of. She Chose Homer, And Homer Chose Me, So He Lent Me His Name Even Though I Didn't Have His Blood.