Gay girls sure know how to party!

I went to a friends birthday party this weekend. Her name is "Diana." She is in a pretty serious relationship with her girlfriend, a girl I knew from high school. As long as I have known Di, she has been gay, however "Tanja," my friend from way back when, only became gay when she met Di. I don't think anyone really saw that coming, but it works. Anyway, They invited my boyfriend and I over since they were having a themed party, kinda like Fat Tuesday meets old school burlesque. Wow, was this party interesting! Since Di and Tanja are gay, most of the friends that were over there were gay as well. I can't be 100% sure, but I would say there were about twenty girls there and maybe five were straight. And that's a very conservative estimate. Most of the guys were obviously straight, but there were a handful of gay guys there. Everyone was pretty cool too, considering I knew almost no one.

Did I mention that her friends are HOT? Holy hell, these girls know how to dress for looks! They were wearing corsets, lacy boy shorts, fishnets, and boas for the select few. They were strutting around in stilettos handing out beads and drinks to everyone who came in. FAB-U-LOUS! Funny part was that when I called to confirm, they jokingly said my boyfriend would probably enjoy the "festivities" more than me. They were sooooo wrong...

Being yuri while surrounded by a group of very attractive and very inebriated half-dressed women I have never met before was amazing. Girls love to cuddle, whether gay or straight. I was totally okay with this. And my boyfriend didn't care, all the girls and their sexy clothes were plenty distracting for him. Then, around midnight, the evening just got better, for who should stroll in? Yes, strippers.

Okay, to be completely honest, most of the girls actually at the party were much nicer looking than the girls stripping. They were a bit detached, but they were doling out lap dances, and most were going to the girls, so that was a nice show. The birthday girl got hers first, then they spread out amongst the guests. Even my boyfriend got one, but I was left out due to my "straightness." Damn, that sux.

Oh well, the highlight of the evening came when Di took a cue from the dancing entertainment and drunkenly dragged her very drunk and very hot girlfriend Tanja to the floor. She gave her a lapdance that made me wish my boyfriend had stayed home for a few minutes...Picking a slow and sexy R&B number, sitting her on the chair...Tanja was so nervous at first, you could see it in her face. but when Di wrapped her legs around Tanja's waist and slowly moved her body up and down, wow. Just, wow. They had the whole room watching them. She was wrapping her boa around Tanja's neck, pulling her face into her tightly corseted chest, damn. Tanja was getting into it at that point, rubbing her hands along Di's back, down to her tight, lace-covered ass. God it was hot.

Just once, I want something like that. I don't even want her to call me after. I want a party where I can dress sexy yet classy, and get a dance from a gorgeous woman who kisses me after, maybe even a little more...next time, next time.

It feels so damn wrong! Right?

You have got to be kidding me! There it goes again! Everytime I hear that Katy Perry song, I start to lose it. I can't stand it! Its been months now and I still hear that stupid song at least once a day. She has another single, just let it go already! "I kissed a girl," yes, honey we get it. You liked it. I am pretty damn sure my boyfriend would mind it. Still, I have to wonder what it is about that damn song that gets me so worked up.

Truth be told, I guess I am a bit jealous. Here she is, rising to fame and fortune while spouting her melodious yuri propaganda and I can't even confess myself to even the best of my friends. Maybe I should call Katy Perry. Figure out how she did it. I swear, you listen to the words, and it feels like she's mocking me. But still, she didn't just write the words did she? She has to have some idea of what it is like to see someone, catch their eye and see them looking back at you the same way. How rare is that...and even more rare, to follow through.

Katy, you must really be one of the luckiest women on the world. You rose to fame and fortune being yourself, confessing lyrics that most people don't admit to even understanding. Me, I am too afraid to talk to anything more than a computer screen. This is the end of the line for me Katy. You are kind of like a super hero to someone like me. Or a role model. A totally gorgeous role model. Love you Katy. And just so you know, I would totally kiss you...

Coworkers suck

You have NO idea how bad I wanted to choke one of my coworkers today! She is the typical bitch who sees the world through narrow minded, black-and-white Gucci sunglasses that you want to cram down her hate filled throat.

It all started when she wedged her way into a conversation I was having with one of my friends during lunch. You see, I do not consider everyone at work a friend. She-Bitch does. This is probably because she is a sniveling, whiney little shit and thus found that this is the only way she can claim to have any at all. My actual friend and I were talking about our weekend plans and naturally She-Bitch feels the need to interject. Apparently she is going out again this weekend with her really rich and fabulous faux-friends but has a problem with one in particular.

Evidentially, they have done "everything" there is to do in this town and now a newer friend of theirs wants to go to a gay club since she feels like they have better music. Said friend isn't from around here, where we have limited access to techno music. Gay clubs however, tend to play it constantly. So I get it. She-Bitch seems lost on the idea. It appears, very annoyed by it as well.

It would seem that she worries about how this little outing to the "homo club" will make them all look, and is concerned about the state of mind her new clique member is in. My friend and I knew where this was going. We just looked at each other. Then she says it.

"Obviously she is a total fucking flamer." I SHIT you not. This is a direct quote from her. It's like the shit just keeps spewing! I think it is pretty clear that while I am not ready to accept myself on the truest of levels and that in its own is a major flaw of mine, I will not lump people into A and B categories to fit my own damn agenda. She does this shit constantly. I mean really. Flamer? While I can acknowledge that Yuri isn't exactly a household word, flamer, flaming, and flamboyant have become a homosexual staple! If you hear flamer and gay in the same sentence, do you really think of some random rich chick checking out a gay club with her friends on the weekend? No! You think of Mark of "Ugly Betty" or Jack from "Will and Grace" or some other flamboyant MALE personality. Dumb She-Bitch couldn't even get the gender right. I fail to understand how she could think that every flippin euphemism for homosexual, whether derogatory or not, fits every type homosexual out there! You wouldn't have called Jack a dyke now would you? But try and point something like this out to a brain dead moron, and you only kill your own brain a little more in the process.

"Flamer? Really? Are you serious? That doesn't even make any sense. Besides, I can totally feel your friend. I like gay clubs better because of the music too. Name one other club around her that plays techno all night besides them." Her response?

"Well yeah, but your sympathetic." WTF? My friend actually leaned in between us at that moment. Apparently she thought I would honestly lose my job over some fucktard like this. Tempting, but I have bills to pay. I just glared at her and walked away. She-Bitch just gave me a stupid confused look like she always does when she pisses me off. Fuck, I hate her. But this time, I hate her even more than usual. I really need to stop taking her bullshit personally. And I really need to find a new job.

I think I'm addicted to low self-esteem

Really. I know that sounds crazy, but I am always drawn to those girls that seem to not know what the hell they really have going for themselves. I think they are hot. They think they are too fat, or too scrawny, or they have a big nose, or dimpled thighs. What the Fuck. Seriously. There is nothing wrong with the women of the world. There is something wrong with the way women are looked at. God, I can't stand it. Shit, I guess I'm no better really...fuck...I have to put down the wine...

Seriously, I think something is wrong with me

There are times when I drift off, thinking about what kind of person I have become. I sit here, wondering if anyone really understands what I am going through, what is happening in my mind when I think the things I think, and want the things I want.

I find myself troubled by the notion that I can be emotionally invested in a person and at the same time physically attracted to them with absolutely no desire for the two to overlap. Quite the opposite actually. My closest friends are few and far in between. They mean the world to me. So why on earth would I be willing to compromise everything for a sexual attraction that isn’t even supposed to go anywhere?

I really do feel like there’s something wrong with me. I suppose most people would agree, which is why I loathe bringing it up at all. I suppose writing is my only outlet, and the chance that someone else out there might be like me is my only hope. I don’t even want to feel like this. It’s hard. When my friend comes to me with a problem, I want to be there for her. I should be there for her. And yet when it happens, it can get so overwhelming to try to separate the two personalities and I fail her. What is wrong with me? For years I have been able to suppress this desire, but it seems to come back with a vengeance, getting steadily stronger as I get older.

I hate myself sometimes because of this. I mean, I love my friends as if they were my family. They are always there for me, at any turn. I owe them the same. But during these crazy moments, when my head can’t seem to let go of what my body is telling me, it’s like they don’t matter anymore. At least not in that way. All I can think about, all I can see is her lips before me, her eyes gazing into mine, and I want to be with her more than ever.

When everything is in good spirits and we are having fun, I don’t feel guilty about the way I feel. It’s the days she comes to me dismayed about her soon to be husband or stressed about work, I feel like shit. I find myself so wrapped up in this twisted obsession with her that I can’t even focus on her words, instead I wind up doing one of two things. Either I ignore her entirely by pretending to be busy or unavailable, or I let myself fall into this insanity again, taking her for drinks while fawning over her every word, not really hearing them but pretending to. I beg her to stay, all the while keeping the drinks flowing in hopes that this time it will be different. And what if it was? What then? What if it really happened this time? Am I really okay with hurting those that matter to me the most merely because I can’t let go of the moment?

The latter happened to me again this weekend, and I spent the next few days trying to figure out how I could have let this happen again. I barely remember a word that was spoken, but her rosy lips and beautiful eyes are vibrant in my mind. I spent my weekend drinking the pain away once again. God I’m a bad person. I just don’t know where to turn or what to do. I am so, so sorry. I really hate myself right now…

Remembering Anna

I am bored at work today, and it gets me thinking about a girl who I became good friends with that used to work here. I'll call her Anna. Anna was always a ton of fun, we used to message each other all day even though I sat right next to her. We confided in one another a lot too, and became pretty close as a result. We even started hanging out outside of work, coming over to each others houses and having a few beers or on rare occasions getting to go out for drinks. She likes wine, and can drink a ton of it in one sitting if you let her. I guess we both can. The boys would usually have some beers and we would crack open bottle after bottle, sometimes making plans that we quickly abandoned as the bottles kept coming. Those nights were always fun.

I remember one night in particular. We decided to go out and have some drinks at a local dive we enjoy. I was excited. I loved our double dates, and they were becoming fewer and farther in between since Anna had just had a new baby not long before. Plus, any excuse to get all dressed up and cute was something to look forward to. My boyfriend and I hopped in the car and headed over to her place pretty early, somewhere around 6pm. We get there and she is still getting ready, and I head into the kitchen to pour us a glass of wine before we go out. I pop the bottle and pour, one glass for me, one for her and head to their bedroom. She was standing at the dresser fussing with her hair, an open jewelry box in front of her. She turns and smiles and we give each other hello hugs and toast our glasses. She takes a sip and turns back to doing her hair. She grimaces.

"Ugh! I hate my hair! Why did you let me cut it off again?" Here we go, she hates her hair again. This was the norm, she would come in after a spontaneous haircut and we were always to blame. Still makes me smile just thinking about it.

"Are you serious? You look hotter than ever!" I meant that. Anna did look stunning in her tight blue jeans and black droop neck halter. She hadn't quite lost her pregnancy breasts either and it was hard not to notice. Her olive skin was lightly freckled on her chest, shoulders and nose, and her makeup was immaculate-as usual. Smokey eyes and pursed pink lips never looked better. She pulled her fingers through her chestnut mane giving it one final spike and huffed.

"Forget it! I will just look hideous!" she declared loudly. I couldn't help but laugh. She is always dramatic about these things. "Help me pick out my jewelry."

She pulls out a strand of big, chunky faux-pearls and holds it against her neck. The strand was long and dangled between the droop of the shirt.

"Those!" I blurted out quickly. "With matching earrings. You know, so they stand out."

"Really? Huh. Okay then," she announced. "I'm ready!" We clinked our glasses and took a couple big gulps. Then we snatched up the boys and were on our way.

*****

We get to the local pub and right away we stood out. Packed with local fishermen and the blue collar set, we looked like a lost bunch with our stilettos and halter tops. While I didn't mind the attention, she loved it. And there was plenty of it. Even with our men on our arms, the heads kept turning. They sat us at a booth near the bar and Anna pulls me to the seat next to her. For when we have to go to the ladies room, she cooed. So cute. We ordered our first round of drinks, beers again for the guys, and some cosmos for us. When they arrived, we toasted our evening out and took a sip.

"Holy shit that's strong!" Anna sputters. "What the hell is in these things anyway?"

"Dunno. I don't usually get them. I'm more of a vodka-cran type of girl," I reply after wincing. It really was a pretty potent drink. "Besides, the only time I even drink this kind of thing is when we go out."

"My mom turned me on to vodka and soda recently. Those are good. I'll order us some."

"Honey, I'm not going to return a drink. I'll finish this one." I said. "It's not a big deal. Besides, the food will soak it up." I chuckled and she laughed.

"I'll just order the next round now! It will get here with the food." She flags down the server and orders us the drinks. "Do you guys want another round too?" She asks her hubbie and my boyfriend.

"Nah, looks like I'll be driving," hubbie jokes.

I knew right then we were in for a fun night. It was one of those rare evenings when the girls could be girls, the boys could be boys, and we still all could have fun together. We ate, we drank, we drank some more...we would giggle amongst ourselves as our guys discussed work, order shooters and appetizers, and run to the restroom every twenty minutes. I could feel myself losing control, swirling more and more into the moment, not caring who saw. It seems so out of place for me, which felt wonderful. Even though my boyfriend was right across from me, I couldn't stop myself from taking her arm in mine, squeezing her hand or touching her hair. And when she would lay her hand on my arm or my thigh, or spontaneously throw her arms around me, it was pure bliss. I absolutely adored her.

By the time we left the bar, we were smashed. I can barely remember getting to the car but I know that on the ride home she laid her head in my lap as I stroked her hair. I was too drunk to keep my eyes open very long, but there was one brief moment where she looked up at me, catching my gaze and blew me a kiss. Even like that she was beautiful.

We arrived home and stumbled into the house. We didn't bother to say much else to anyone and instead went straight to bed. We laid down, still dressed and wrapped our arms around each other. We barely had enough strength to pull up the covers. As we held each other, she started to doze, but before she did, she whispers to me.

"You're one of my best friends, Yuri. I love you."

"We will always be best friends, Anna. I love you too." I whispered back. Then we leaned in and kissed. Softly. Her eyes were closed, but I saw her smile. Then she was asleep. And so was I.

The next morning we all woke up, enjoyed coffee and pastries for breakfast, and mused about the night before. I didn't remember much, and Anna seemed to remember even less. It was like it always was, and I couldn't help but think - perfect...almost. I really should call her again...

Let me explain...

Where do people go when they don’t know who else to turn to? When they feel alone? I feel like this all the time and I don’t know why exactly. I guess I don’t think I fit in anywhere. Let me explain a bit more about myself so you can understand. I am a woman. By all accounts, I am a straight woman. Very straight. I am in a happy, fulfilling, and loving relationship with a man. So I should be fine, right? But I’m not. And its all because of a bizarre attraction that is hard to explain, and even harder to understand.

I am yuri. By all accounts, this term is loosely and more importantly self defined. Most people relate this to the lesbian genre manga and anime, and you would be right to assume that is where the name came from. But I said I am not gay so then how do I identify with it? It helps to understand that yuri is a disturbingly complex genre. Without getting into it too deeply, suffice it to say that yuri stems from "the contemporary understanding that same-sex love was a transitory and normal part of female development," according to Wikipedia.

It also helped me to decide upon this idiom by trying to figure out what I am not. First and foremost, I am not gay. I have no desire to be in any sort of long term, intimate relationship with another woman. None. I know many of you will just assume I’m in denial, or maybe homophobic, and that’s fine. However, I promise you this is not the case. My love interests peak with men, especially now that I found the one I want to spend the rest of my life with. And sex, well sex is just phenomenal with a man, particularly when you are in love. Even though sex with a woman is equally fulfilling physically, emotionally, I remain unattached. On a side note, another much less profound reason is the word lesbian. Quite frankly, it turns me off. If that offends you, my apologies, but I am sure I’m not the only one who thinks that way.

I am also not bi. I feel this way because to truly be a bisexual, I feel like you can fall in love equally with either man or woman, based solely on who they are and how compatible you are. That’s not me either. While I have had sex with women, I have never fallen in love with any. Again, naysayers may assume I just have never met the right woman, but again this goes on feeling. I don’t see women the same way I see men. I may find a woman physically attractive, perhaps even desire a woman to a certain extent, but I don’t love them. I can be close to a woman, I can desire a woman, sometimes these intermix, but it never feels the same as when I am in a relationship with a man. The way he makes me feel, the way I want to make him feel, the steady ongoing passion coupled with an affection that lasts is what makes it so different than my sentiment towards a woman. Sure, there are girls out there who screw around with their peers after a drunken college party and call themselves bi, but come on. Screwing your slutty friends for the benefit of some guys gawking does not an identity make. To truly call yourself bisexual, you have to be bisexual for yourself. Not for the cameras or the attention. And not just because you don’t fit in anywhere else.

So then what am I? I’m not gay, I’m not bi, I’m happy, but not quite complete. I am an anomaly. I suppose I am also a bit selfish. When I am around a woman I like, I want to touch them, to feel them, even kiss them but not love them. And I don’t want them to love me. It’s an attraction for the moment. It’s something quite fleeting, even amongst the women in my life everyday. I want to run my fingers through her hair, to glide my fingers down her spine. To feel a gentle kiss become an explosion of passion that fades the second we part ways. And the next day, we can go back to chatting about work and bitching about boyfriends, just like the way things always were. But the world tells me this is weird. The world tells me this is wrong. The world tells me there is no place like that for someone like me. So finally, I decided to make one of my own. Welcome world, to Secret Yuri...