How was your Pride?
Mine was, um, epic.
Live/drunk blogging was ridiculous.
Nothing happened with God-Des, obvs.
The girls I was driving with found her wandering the streets of downtown at 2:30 in the morning, looking for her hotel.
We hollered at God-des, stuffed her and her posse into the car, and took them home.
I touched her shoulder veeeeeery gently with one finger in the car.
What a creep I am.
Pride was so wonderful.
It was so fun to see thousands of mos just dancing their asses off and wearing crazy outfits and having a great time.
So good to be surrounded by my Minneapolis family.
So good to show all of Minneapolis gaygirldom exactly which dance moves they haven’t been missing since we moved to Chicago.
Now, Minneapolis is rad, but I’m starting to feel like I’m cheating on it.
Every day, I fall in love a little harder with Chicago.
How did I not see it before?
This city’s awesome!
There are tons of queer girls here!
And they get up to some fairly interesting doings.
Take what I did last night, for instance.
Last night, I went to…
a CLLAW event.
CLLAW X: Red, White, and Bruised to be specific.
CLLAW is otherwise known as the Chicago League of Lady Arm-Wrestlers.
Otherwise otherwise known as “Holy fucking shit, can you believe this exists???!!??”
Tricks, you have no idea.
Imagine a sea of strong-ass female arm-wrestling contenders complete with themed outfits, costumed managers, and an entire matching entourage dressed in their champion’s colors and screaming their damn heads off.
CLLAW, y’allfags. CLLAW.
I’d never seen anything like it.
Among the contenders:
- huge, insanely strong girl named Armkansas, whose theme was “backcountry hillbilly” and who had a fucking circular saw blade sticking up from her mohawk;
- a feisty lil’ girl named Killer Bee, break dancing in a bee costume with an entire “swarm” of mos in black and yellow;
- a bodybuilder-looking type named Armageddon, wrapped in black spandex and toting machine guns while her fleet of fans (dressed as the bloody horses of Armageddon) pranced around her;
- a tiny bit of a thing named Unibomber who flexed her little muscles as she rode in on a unicycle with her hood up, a mustache, and dark sunglasses;
- annnnnd the winner of CLLAW IX, an adorable girl named Connie Vict, dressed in chains and a fresh-out-of-prison new denim jean jacket, complete with tattooed armsleeves and a snarl you’d have to see to believe.
This wasn’t regular arm wrestling, sluts.
The judges accepted bribes.
The bar was huge and packed.
The judges would suddenly decide they wanted to see a “Canadian Rules” match, where fists were covered in maple syrup before wrestling, or a left-handed match, or a match where where hands were dipped in Crisco, or a match where the Pledge of Allegiance had to be recited (correctly) while wrestling.
I had all my money riding on Killer Bee.
She was one of the smallest contenders, but she seemed the most into it.
As with many (ahem) things in life, enthusiasm often makes up for skill.
Killer Bee ended up winning, and I have no voice at all today.
I don’t think I’ve been so excited or screamed so much since Alma and Jordan took me for my very first trip to Trader Joe’s and I realized how much goat cheese I could get for $4.
Anyway! Enough talk about amazing all-girl arm-wrestling events, homos.
Today, I want to talk about a letter I received riiiiiight around Pride last week.
The letter writer was clearly having drama.
The email had been sent from a phone.
No pleasantries. No small talk.
She got right to the point.
Q: “Krista. Do you think the ‘bros before hos’ rule applies to lesbians? What do you think about dating your friends’ exes?”
I feel like this should be a lesbian self-help book.
Dating your friend’s ex: Can it/should it be done?
Let me just start off with:
I hate that “bros before hos” saying.
Invented by straight dudes to keep women from ‘causing’ fights between guy friends.
You know who causes fights among friends?
Straight women have a similar saying – “chicks before dicks.”
Same lack of taking responsibility for your own actions.
Don’t let love interests come between you and your friends.
Never date your friend’s ex.
For girls, it’s like the Female Friend Code.
We learned alllll about it in 4th grade.
If Ann is going out with Mitch, and then Kelly goes out with Mitch two weeks later, shit is going to go down during afternoon recess.
Buuuut, after we all grew up a bit, things got a bit more complicated.
Things are a little…different for lesbians.
From what I’ve seen, it would appear that lesbians have filed the Female Friend Code away under a desktop folder titled “Cute Rules for Straight People.”
Aww, straight people.
Straight people and their enormous dating pool of other straight people.
What happens to the Female Friend Code when the dating pool is reduced by 90% of the population?
What now, bitches?
What happens when you live in a place with an extremely limited number of queer, potential dates?
What if you feel like you know every dyke in the city already?
And everyone has already dated everyone else?
What happens to the Female Friend Code then?
I find it interesting that lesbians have no cutely rhyming phrases to teach the members of our ranks not to to mess around with the women our friends are dating.
Alma suggested “cliques before clits” but I dunno.
It doesn’t work!
You know why we lezzers don’t have a phrase like that?
Because we date each others’ exes all the time.
We kind of…have to.
We, as queermosexuals, have to deal with a vastly smaller dating pool.
There just aren’t that many of us.
If you’re queer, out, and even semi-social…it’s quite possible you’re going to date someone a friend has already dated.
We can’t afford to just cross a great woman off our list because a friend liked her/dated her.
We don’t have the ‘luxury’ of turning up our noses and sneering “sloppy seconds, dude, no thanks.”
We’ll take those sloppy seconds!
Damn, we love leftovers!
And, while we’re at it, what is so wrong with a woman having lots of previous lovers? Hmm?
We need to assume that we lesbians are going to date each other’s exes.
That is our given.
And if it’s a given that we’re going to date each others’ exes, then…shouldn’t we, as a people, be excused from the Female Friend Code?
This is what I was thinking when I started writing.
That we should abolish this heterocentric rule against dating our friends’ exes.
Be exempt from it.
Enough with feelings!
Let’s all say “fuckit” and go find our true loves, eh what?
Exempt, I say!
Wait, that means we won’t have any friends left.
Maybe we should just ask our buddies very politely if we can date their exes.
If they’re our real friends, they should want us to be happy!
‘Cause that’s totally the way things work!
Well…Unless it’s your best friend’s ex.
Or the breakup was super recent.
Or super nasty.
Or they were together a long time.
Or if it’s a case where your friend got dumped, and not the other way ’round.
Or it was a long time ago but the ex was your friend’s first or true love.
This is incredibly complicated.
There’s no set list of guidelines for dating your friend’s ex, although I wish to jeebus there were.
There are just so. many. variables.
What if someone’s ex seems perfect and it’s been two damn years since they broke up?
And what if you date a good friend’s ex-girlfriend and it causes major drama, but then it turns into a long, happy relationship?
A true love kind of situation?
Does that negate any lingering hard feelings?
Because it was serious?
I’ve been thinking about this for way too long.
My brain hurts.
I’m going to go to the fireworks tonight and not even look at any girls.
Well…unless they’re wearing booty shorts.
Or tank tops.
That wouldn’t be my fault, then.
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Krista Burton is brand-new to Chicago. An ex-Mormon from Minneapolis, she writes a blog called Effing Dykes (www.effingdykes.blogspot.com), which is about activating your lesbian gaydar. She spends most of her time staring longingly at enormous dogs, riding her shiny orange scooter around town, and trying to bake gluten-free cake that doesn’t taste like gluten-free cake. She’s a staff writer at Groupon, and loves girls, inappropriate footwear, and hip-hop songs with filthy lyrics.