Filed under: birds and bees | Tags: alcohol, alexis, anastasia, dating, lesbian, wine, women
There’s this thing my lady friend calls the “big lesbian cesspool.”
Let’s look at some facts. In the last three elections, the Voter News Service exit poll registered the gay vote between four and five percent. Apparently the Census 2000 under-counted (awesome! go equality!) the total number of gay or lesbian households and thus the total gay and lesbian population can be estimated at five percent of the total U.S. population over 18 years of age.
Now, let’s do some (very bad) math. I live in New York City. It’s estimated that there are 8.3 million other people living around me. Multiply that by five percent and you have 415,000 other folks that either are in a strictly homosexual relationship or would like to be. Now, the tricky part: what percentage of that number are women identifying as lesbians or bisexuals? Wouldn’t it be nice if you could just halve the number since the population is generally 50 percent male and 50 percent female? But I don’t think that’s scientifically correct.
When Kinsey did his famous sexy time studies, he found that somewhere between one and two percent of women were exclusively homosexual. We’ll take that with a grain of salt since it’s a bit outdated. Ultimately the number of LGB people in the U.S. (then and now) really is quite subjective and fluid. I’m not sure a number will ever be pinned down.
So for everyone who skipped my bad math and quick googling skills: in the grand scheme of things, there aren’t a ton of gay people around. Thus, it’s safe to assume there is some inter-dating between exes and friends. And that. Shit. Gets. Complicated. Have you ever seen the L word? Let’s do a quick rundown: Bette and Tina dated. Bette dated Alice. Alice dated Dana. Dana sort of hooked up with Jenny once. Jenny dated Shane. Shane made out with Helena. Helena dated Tina. It’s a big, lesbian cesspool of dating your best friend’s ex or your ex’s best friend.
Truthfully, I didn’t believe this when my lady friend told me about the cesspool she was minorly connected to in Brooklyn. Call me naive but originally I chalked this theory to being nothing more than that: a theory, a myth, like unicorns and the iPhone. But then Alexis rolled into town for my birthday and drowned me in that cesspool with one drunken text.
We were at a lovely dinner party. Alexis made guacamole that, despite it’s poopie color due to my inability to pick out ripe avocados, was absolutely delicious. My Italian side reared its head with some bruschetta and red wine. We had too much gin, too much wine, too much pulled chicken and a super heated game of catchprase. My friend invited coworkers and my lady friend’s ex girlfriend was in town for the weekend as well, so she joined the fun. Generally, my rule of thumb is to hate any ex of anyone I’m sleeping with. But this girl is downright awesome. She acts just like a boy with me, is generous with cigarettes and introduced me to the most drunkenly violent game of rock, paper, scissors ever.
The night was winding down. Lady friend and I were lying on the floor of her bedroom trying to digest our respective food babies and my phone starts to vibrate. I was a little shocked to see a text from Alexis waiting for me. She was maybe ten feet away from me in the other room. What did she want? Why couldn’t she come into the room and tell me herself?
Alexis: Uh oh. I have something to tell you.
Me: Okay?
Alexis: It’s bad.
Me: Um, okay. Tell me.
Alexis: No, I’ll tell you when we get home.
Now at this point, Alexis rolls into the room with another friend. I’m a little perplexed as to a) why she didn’t tell me in person; b) what’s so important and c) how she manages to text me while we’re in the same room without anyone noticing.
Me: Tell me now.
Alexis: I think one of your friends is really cool.
Let’s translate: “I think one of your friends is really cool” in Alexis speak means “I want to bone one of your friends.” But something was a little fishy. When Alexis is bombed, she makes no effort to hide who she wants to bone. She’d probably tattoo it right across her forehead if she could and I don’t blame her since she usually gets what she wants. Her secretive texts immediately made me think she had the hots for my lady friend or the ex.
Me: Oh. Christ. Lady friend or ex?
Alexis: What? Dude? Come on. I think the ex is really awesome.
BAM. I just outed Alexis. Alexis had the hots for a girl. Maybe it was the wine? Maybe it was seeing me all up on another girl? The world may never know.
I must give credit where’s its due. Alexis managed to single-handedly introduce me to the big lesbian cesspool with her mini crush on my girl’s ex girl all while keeping her pants on. And it’s a shame, because the ex totally would have hit that if Alexis had made the first move.
-Anastasia Beam
Filed under: this and that | Tags: alexis, anastasia, anniversary, shoulda called it a night
Ah, one year. One year in which I grew older, wiser and more conscious of my actions. Oops, correction: one year in which I drank enough to give ulcers to three people as a result of many poor, poor choices all while abandoning my relationship with the gymnasium.
Most reflect on their actions from the previous three hundred and sixty four days on New Year’s Eve. They analyze and critique their year and plan for the future. I didn’t do that. With the anniversary of our first blog entry looming, I knew on New Year’s Eve that I had an extra twenty-something days before I could ponder my year and start plotting the next.
It’s been a year since Alexis and I published our first blog entry. And what an interesting year it’s been, to say the least.
I could write a little summary of how I have changed but if you’ve read any of my stories it’s all spelled out. So, instead, here’s a list of some of the events that happened in the last year. My goal is to jog my memory of some of the stories I blacked out.
1. Gin, gin, gin. I am now in a deep, dedicated relationship with all forms of gin. Generally, I like my gin dry, in a martini glass with very little vermouth and extra olives. But from time to time, I have been known to splash some New Amsterdam in a water bottle with a dash of tonic and a squeeze of lime. There’s nothing like a gin and tonic on the go. This came in handy most notably on the fourth of July when I went to a Jenny Lewis concert in Battery Park, started drinking at 11 in the morning, and attempted to convince a security guard that a tote filled with 7 homemade gin and tonics in large Canada Dry bottles were really just water bottles to prevent “dehydration”. Eventually, the gin lead to me passing out for an impromptu afternoon nap in the park when Bright Eyes started whining on stage. Was it amazing? Yes. Maybe a little pathetic? Probably. But I made it to the West Side Highway for fireworks, a feat in and of itself.
2. My tango with a box of wine. I’ve always been partial for quantity over quality. Sure, if my bank account allowed me to stock up on the finest imported French Wines poured in a crystal Chalice by the winemakers themselves, of course I would lead this lifestyle. But one desperate day in June required the cheapest box of Franzia I could find. One glass lead to a deep conversation which in turn became ten glasses of wine. That’s also known as half a box of wine. Half. A box. Of wine. I drank half a box of wine in maybe three hours. Cut to me walking home and weeping by myself. Fast forward to me curled around my toilet while listening to R&B on Pandora, occasionally taking breaks from the beats to vomit. I made it to work that morning. Despite vomitting my face off, I’m certain I was more drunk than you could ever imagine while emailing my boss and working on assignments. But I never got caught…
3. Writing my college essay while high. This one is pretty self explanitory. Occasionally we all just need that special tobacco to help us stop worrying about deadlines. Or maybe that’s just me?
4. My friends. They are amazing and did more for me in the past year than I can even think to type up.
5. Kissing a lady in public. Yikes. That used to freak me out. Now it’s kind of awesome. For example: the other night we were at a bar for someone’s party. We popped downstairs to mix some more gin from my flask in my $2 tonic and ended up making out in the “Employee’s Only” room around the corner from the bathroom. Totally innocent, right? Innocent until a barback carrying loads of ice wandered into the room and walked in on his very own big lesbian porn fantasy.
All in all, I think this has been one of the greatest years of my life. I think the best part of it is playing drunk detective with this blog and getting comments and emails from all you fine readers about my excursions.
I’ve been thrown some curveballs that I hit out of the park with booze, sex and friends. And who would want to handle all that life throws at you in any other way?
-Anastasia Beam
One year of writing…
It has been one year since Anastasia and I have created this wonderful forum for sharing with the world. To be honest I’m surprised that we committed to something for that long! … aside from drinking. It’s pretty impressive seeing how we spent so many months planning different failed ventures. At one point we wanted to be producers, but that didn’t work out.
Once we decided we wanted to write a book, which is actually what the blog stemmed from. Before we could write a book we wanted to see if people liked what we wrote about, so we created this! It’s been a fun year sharing all of our old stories and making new ones. And hopefully there will be many more.
It sure has been a crazy year. I had recently moved [when we started this blog] so I was busy trying to start a new life and it was hard being away from all of my friends, including Anastasia. It definitely was fun talking and planning with her everyday as to what we wanted the blog to be. We went through many different designs and finally settled on just the plain black with the title. We are still considering making it into an actual website, but we shall see how that goes. Anastasia did all the designing, I didn’t know a lot about that when we started. But it has been fun to learn.
As the blog progressed we were doing it M-F, until we hit a few road blocks this summer and had to take a few months off. We decided the two stories a week that we do now is much more feasible than the five. It has been a fun year, and we have many more stories to share!
Thank you for reading and we always enjoy your input!
Cheers,
Alexis
Filed under: douche baggery | Tags: alcohol, alexis, anastasia, boyfriends, commitment, dating, friendship, green bay packers, kissing, new york city, rangers, relationships
I do not scare easily. Spiders gross me out, but I can handle them if need be. Love heights- flying is like home to me. But throw that “commitment” word around and I bolt faster than a shot fired from a gun. There will be an Alexis-sized hole through the nearest wall.
My horoscope characteristics: a nagging need to feel free (which can lead to trouble), fears responsibility, impatient, a risk taker and gambler at heart, argumentative and has a lack of commitment. Soooo very true.
So when someone tells me they want to enter a committed relationship, I freak out. Especially if I don’t see it coming. Now you know why I haven’t had a boyfriend in the last eight years. There were some events that triggered this fear, but that’s a much longer story best saved for a therapist.
Well, when I went to visit Anastasia, not only did I have a wonderful time with her, but I also was put into a “scary” situation. A man told me he was “head over heels crazy about me.” Fuck that makes me shudder even now.
I knew a lot of people from this bar I used to work at in NYC, one of which I had gone on a date with about two years ago. Billy is a super nice person and I enjoyed his friendship a lot. But dating? Yeah, not so good of a time. He just wasn’t for me. I was in my “nice guys finish last phase,” where I only dated horrible men. So, Billy, he would never have worked out. I ended up avoiding him until I moved.
Since being away from Billy, we were able to establish a pretty sweet friendship. We have a playful football rivalry (Packers v. Giants) so we tend to talk a lot during football season. Finally I decided to go back for a visit (to visit Anastasia) and I ended up mentioning this to Billy. He got excited and told me he’d take me to a Rangers hockey game while I was there. This excited me because I wanted to see the old gang.
In the weeks leading up to my visit, Billy and I had begun talking a lot. Even to the point that I may have developed a slight crush on the guy. It was a I-like-you-only-because-you-live-far-away kind of crush. But who knows. Maybe, since I’m now 25, I am mature enough for a relationship? So I was excited to see him and therefore told him so.
Things turned sour fast. Our flirtation turned into “I’ll do anything to be with you,” in zero-60. It was bad. It didn’t help that I got hammered at the game and ended up making out with him. My bad. In my defense I didn’t know it’d lead to the following text conversation that happened the day after the game.
Billy: There’s something I wanna tell you when I get home tonight
Me: Um OK that makes me nervous
Billy: Haha don’t be. It’s nothing bad. Just something I’ve wanted to say for awhile.
Me: I hate waiting
Billy: I promise it’ll be worth the wait.
Me: Just give me a hint
Billy: It has to do w/how I feel about you but I’m a little nervous to say it
Me: That’s what I thought
Billy: I’m just gonna say it now… I’m head over heels crazy about you
Billy: You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever had the honor of meeting
Billy: Honestly, I want to do whatever it takes to be w/you even if it means packing up and moving out to where you are
Billy: I mean it. I want you in my life no matter what it takes
Billy: I love being near you. I miss you so much and I wish I had you in my arms right now
Ah, ah, ah… cue hyperventilating. Yikes. What the fuck happened. I know I’m a damn fine kisser, but holy shit, I did not see that one coming. I had to squash this shit quick.
The texting continued for the rest of the weekend that I was visiting Anastasia. He said more things like “I want to protect you,” and other creepy shit like that. I had to agree to meet with him on Sunday in order to “discuss” what we were going to do.
Sunday rolls around and I really didn’t want to go, but I felt it necessary. I go to meet him to watch a football game somewhere downtown. When he sees me, he immediately goes in for the kiss. I turn my cheek. He tries again. I turn my cheek again. HE FUCKING TRIES AGAIN. Yes, he really did for a third time. That last time I finally just pulled away. That shit wasn’t happening. Then he goes for the hand holding. There is nothing that scares me more than public displays of affection… but I felt bad. This man was going to cry if I didn’t do something.
We end up walking around for almost an hour trying to find a bar. It was rainy and gross. Did not help the situation. We finally found a bar. We sat down and took off our coats. He was wearing the EXACT same outfit as me. Son of a bitch. I AM THE PACKER FAN, NOT HIM. But to impress me he decided he would wear a Packer shirt. Fuck, I had decided to wear mine as well, in remorse of the fact that the Packers were out of the playoffs. Never thought he’d wear a GB shirt as well, especially since he’s a Giants fan. We looked like morons.
As soon as we sat down he said: I just want you to know that I’m serious, I’d do anything to be with you, even if that meant moving.
My response? - Oh… uh that’s not necessary.
In the next two hours I proceeded to tell him that I didn’t want to date him, didn’t want him to move, that I’m a tad bit crazy, that I sort of married my yoga teacher in Bali… and so much more. Nothing scared him. My goodness, all you have to say to me is the “C” word and I’m scared out of my mind. Shit son. He’s like Earnest on steroids. Where do I find these men? It didn’t end well; I think he thinks we are getting married next month… I didn’t want to crush his soul so I tried to be nice. I’ll have to go for a more drastic tactic next time. Anastasia saved me half way through the “date.” Our code text was “I hate Brett Favre.” Which was appropriate because I was watching the Vikings game. She called and said I had to meet her sooner rather than later so we could go to a dinner party. I made Billy leave the bar shortly after.
He walked me to my train, kissed me, and I ran for my life, slightly fearing he may have gotten on my train in a different car. Yikes.
-Alexis Patron
Filed under: Uncategorized
We jointly had to tear up some asshole who had the audacity to question our “hotness” in a comment on a previous post. Puh-leeze…
How silly?
Another gentleman asked for a picture of us from our upcoming weekend of sheer debauchery. I would love to consent. I would love to pose topless with bottles of Bombay for all you kiddies to enjoy. But, we’re ladies. Ladies who still occasionally have to go on interviews when we’re not sucking the government dry of it’s valuable unemployment or flirting for extra tips at the bar. Yes, yes…we suuuure are ladies.
Anyways, this weekend is going to be nothing short of riotous for the two of us. We haven’t seen each other in over a year and have some serious binge drinking to catch up on.
I, again, have to apologize for my slight absence lately. I’m putting together a bunch of applications for grad school (yikes) and am finding it hard to go from personal-statement-and-or-career-goal-type essays to drank-a-fifth-of-gin-and-passed-out-during-sexy-time stories.
While we’re all getting cozy and sharing feelings, I think it’s time for an informal yet highly scientific poll. What do you guys like reading about? What kind of stories interest you? Are you more into reading about all the absolutely terrifyingly irresponsible decisions we make? Are you interested in what goes on in our minds with various relationships? Give me all the hot deets in comments below.
Not that I have any plan to cater to your every whim (okay, total lie) but it would be nice to know which genres our friends like reading.
Cheers,
Anastasia
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME ON FRIDAY! Twenty-five, oh christ…twenty-five..
Filed under: alcohol | Tags: alcohol, alexis, anastasia, new york city, rangers, reunion
I just wanted to inform you all that I leave tomorrow to go visit Anastasia. It is going to be epic. It is her 25th birthday weekend and we haven’t seen each other in over a year. Craziness for sure will happen. We probably will be too drunk to post for the rest of the week, but we will share our stories with you next week after the hangover subsides!
A little preview: Thursday will be a Ranger hockey game at MSG = lots of drinking
Friday: Anastasia’s big birthday! = lots of drinking
And well you can guess the rest of the weekend. The weekend will also include the bottle of Bombay Sapphire that she owes me for being celibate for six months. It was a bet we made last February after I had been a little “too slutty” for about a year. So she bet me I couldn’t go six months…. it’s been eleven. Yep, I’m still celibate. Strange for me! Anyways, I’m sure there will be more than one bottle of Sapphire at this reunion.
We will be sure to fill you in next week!
And, Happy Birthday to Anastasia!
-Love, Alexis
As you have gotten to know us through our debauchery, I thought it was time to share some insight into our very strange personalities and therefore you will realize why Anastasia and I mesh so very well together. We have decided to post our “text” conversation from Christmas day, to share with you all our craziness. Before you continue you should know this conversation may not appropriate for certain audiences, so proceed with caution. If you are easily offended, I am sorry!
I was in a car driving from Minnesota to Wisconsin and Anastasia was in New York. This was our conversation:
Anastasia: Merry Christmas! Yay Jesus and Santa!
Me: Go Jesus! Merry xmas!
Anastasia: We love Jesus so much.
Me: Jesus is my BFF.
Anastasia: Jesus is my soul mate.
Me: I believe it. Jesus is my blood brother
Anastasia: Jesus and I were in the same fraternity in college. And we dated but broke up mutually.
Me: Jesus proposed to me, I still have the ring. Bullshit your breakup is mutual
Anastasia: You cheated on that ring. Jesus and I started a babysitters club. We renovated a green house and gave it to an older lady.
Me: I was forgiven for that. Jesus and I feed the needy. That old lady died so she has no used for that greenhouse. Jesus and I braid each others hair.
Anastasia: Jesus tells me stories about this needy girl with an alcoholic side who is convinced he proposed to her when he didn’t. Jesus does my laundry and big spoons me.
Me: Jesus forks me.
Anastasia: Jesus is gay. He told me. He’s afraid to tell his father.
Me: His father already knows. Now Jesus feels free. We now go skipping hand in hand down the yellow brick road.
Anastasia: Jesus loves me because I am me.
Me: Jesus love me for trying to be friends with you
Anastasia: Jesus loves me for fucking your dad
Me: Jesus hopes you didn’t get the clap
Anastasia: Jesus told me that the clap can be cured and so long as I get the chance to sit on that mustached face of his it would be worth it.
Me: Jesus said he’d forgive me if I punched you in the baby maker
Anastasia: Jesus said she without sin cast the first stone. That is no way is you so don’t touch me. Jesus knows my love for your father is real.
Me: Jesus doesn’t like when you spew lies from that dirty sin mouth
Anastasia: Jesus and I know the truth. Get on board or spend eternity in the fire pits of hell.
Me: At least I’ll be tan.
Anastasia: Finally you broke the Jesus mold. That was unique.
-Alexis and Anastasia
Filed under: this and that | Tags: anastasia, dating, kissing, relationships, sex, women
Oh shit. Alcoholic, promiscuous, sporadic, awkward, smoking-obsessed Anastasia is now accountable to someone. Gone are the days of mindless, drunken bar make outs. Goodbye to flings with ex boyfriends and hookups. In a short two weeks (maybe four days of which I spent sober,) I inked my name on one of those relationship contracts most of my friends are so fond of. Think of what this means: pop-ins, phone calls, date nights, sleepovers, and all the limitless unknown I’m soon to uncover again. This is sounding like I’m trapped, scared and or ready to run. You name it. But to be fair, I haven’t been in a relationship for well over two years. It’s new again, like that sweater that’s so pretty and looks soft but really needs to be washed a few times and broken in. So, I’m reminding myself of the good parts too: cuddling on rainy Sundays, having someone miss you when you’re gone, back rubs, cooking dinners together. All the little things I once loved before I let cynicism dominate any budding relationship.
So yeah. I’m dating someone and she’s great.
Wait, what?
Yep, friends. You read that right. Gone also are the days of blow jobs and baby scares. I’m dating a woman. And it’s not as strange or unfamiliar as I expected. But we’ll get to that part eventually.
How this happened is quite the epic story, all too new and personal to spill to the internet machine just yet. To sum it up, it began with two friends, feelings developed, and a risk was taken. Knock on wood, fingers crossed, rub your lucky rabbit’s foot for me- that risk has paid off so far. If a friendship hadn’t been on the line, I wouldn’t have hesitated to rush into sex or a relationship. But since it was, I took it slow.
I haven’t told many people about my new beau…or lady beau, I should say. When not under the anonymity of the internet, I prefer to keep my personal conquests and antics to myself and a close few who proved themselves trustworthy. I know, this is a completely contradictory statement coming from someone who spills her soul and intimacies with strangers via a tiny little blog.
But of those who are not in my immediate circle of friends who saw romance blooming when I did my best to keep it hidden beneath bottles of gin and poorly-thought out jokes, there have been a few questions. What’s is dating a woman like? How is the sex compared to sex with men? Are you gay?
All valid questions. So here are some answers:
What dating a woman is like (so far)
I thought I understood my friends who embarked on their first lesbian relationships while considering themselves mostly straight but you’ll never fully understand until you’re face is thigh-deep at three in the morning. Women are soft. Women are considerate. Women are giving. Women read other women better than any man on his best day. And none of this is to discredit men, because some of my best friends are men who are considerate and giving creatures. But the level of unspoken communication that occurs between two women versus a man and a woman is almost unbelievable. I haven’t come across an instance where “I’m fine” actually meant the opposite in our relationship. Because we don’t fuck around with games and poor communication. When I don’t want to think or talk, I tell her and she respects it. When she wants to discuss our status, she tells me and we do.
At the same time, women can be tricky and slightly more moody than men. I know this because I see it in myself and while I haven’t come across it in my relationship thus far, I’m bracing myself.
How is the sex compared to sex with men
I’ll answer this fully when you tell me how to compare apples to oranges. Sex with a woman versus sex with a man are two completely different entities that comparing the two would ultimately demean both experiences.
What I can tell you, however, is that sex with a woman is similar to a wrestling tag team match: your turn, my turn, your turn, my turn, tag in, tag out, tag in, tag out. When you know your partner’s sex organ isn’t going to explode and go soft, you’re a lot less concerned with getting yours and can focus on giving more.
Am I gay
I consider myself the luckiest girl on earth who is dating an out, open lesbian. She has never asked this question of me, never pushed me to tell her one way or the other. Do I think I am gay? No. I do not. Call it denial if you’d like. Fine. I’m still attracted to men (most notably on a Jake Gyllenhaal kick right now.) but am committed to a woman because she’s amazing and makes my head spin. Sexuality is fluid. If you consider yourself one hundred percent straight or one hundred percent gay, you’re lying. And that’s fine, should that be the route you chose to take. Because perhaps more important than knowing where on the scale you lay is knowing that sexuality is incredibly personal, intimate and need only to be shared with those you see fit.
Bottom line: she’s awesome and I just doubled my wardrobe.
-Anastasia Beam
