Wednesday, September 15, 2004

Gaf Gah (Picture my tongue in my cheek, please!)

Okay. You guys are forcing me to do this. I wasn't going to. I was going to avoid it. But you had to go and invoke the fag hag thing.

I've been called a fag hag (in a loving way, mind you) about a dozen times this past week.

Let me state for the record that I have absolutely no problem with people using this term to describe themselves or their friends. I know that it is said in all affection. I also think that it makes sense in a very complicated way for straight women to befriend gay men.

But I am not a fag hag. And I can prove it.

First, go to Shamus' blog and read this.

See.

I don't enjoy oddly-named drinks. I barely drink at all.

I rarely bitch. (Really! What? You don't believe me?)

I've never crapped at a gay man's house. Ever. Nor would I.

I love football. I played football. I love all sports, except golf (which, come on, isn't really a sport anyway.)

I hate to be the center of attention. Except with my blog. (Okay. Maybe I enjoy attention just a little bit.)

Ummm...yeah. You'll have to read Shamus' post carefully and see why the next one doesn't apply.

I hate drama.

I LOVE heterosexual males.

I already have babies and don't want yours. At all!

I HATE pink.

And as far as I know, all of my prom dates were straight. Even the guy who stood me up.

Okay. As Patrick points out, many of these seem to point to me being a lesbian. But I'm not (of course). He further points out that I have lesbian friends. In his opinion, fag hags and lesbians do not get along. I'll have to bow to his expertise on that one.

So see. No fag hag here.

But to be completely serious, my problem with the term fag hag stems from the words themselves. Fag is one of those words that only the members of the group can use. I will just never be comfortable with that word. In fact, I even had a hard time typing it here. I understand why people use it, but I just can't go there myself.

And then, well hell. No woman wants to be called a hag. Especially a woman who has sprouted her first gray hair and (tiny) eye wrinkle.

(For someone who is willing to be identified as Tuna Girl, I have an awful lot of opinions about fag hag, don't I?)

Call me a fruit fly, a FOG (friend of gays), or even a Grace (yuck)...but just don't call late for dancing.


*****

By the way, have I mentioned how much I love you guys lately? Yesterday's post wasn't so much about my ego as it was about my family. I really appreciate all of your comments. In fact, you probably have no idea how much they mean to me.

Love you!

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