I’m a lesbian.  There.  I hung out with lesbians in college, remain best friends with lesbians, enjoy wearing bandannas, am fiercely pro-choice, love shooting pool in lesbian bars, and am a big fan of Tracy Chapman, K.D. Lang and The Indigo Girls–OK not the Indigo Girls.  I’m a lesbian, not a bull dyke.

I blogged about this before today, but one of my best friends from college (a lesbian) introduced me to The L Word when I was visiting her back in New York in January. I never had any real desire to see the show because I just assumed it was Queer as Folk with vaginas.  And it is, but it’s also so much better.  Again, maybe it’s because I’m a lesbian.

Sexy, sophisticated and stylish women in L.A. (should have been NY but that’s a personal choice) licking and learning, having orgasms and babies, working their way up the career ladder and taking care of their friends and families.

I can identify with these women in a way I could never identify with the men on Queer as Folk.  They were just attractive caricatures with visible abs and tight asses.  Do gay men aspire to that?  I go to the fucking gym four days a week and have been doing so since college.  What do you think?  Still, something rang false about that show.  It was all sex, no soul.  And soulless sex is probably the worst stereotype out there about gay men.

I even got my partner hooked on The L Word.  He’s at the gym right now and it’s all I can do to not watch the episodes I rented from the Japanese version of Blockbuster Video, Tsutaya.  I promised him I’d wait until he got home.  He better get home soon.