Julianna's Blog Entry #10 10/11/2011
I’m baaaaaaaaaaaack! I thought summer and I were over and agreed to go our separate ways, but it seems like it is here to stay! To describe it, I would use the term “Indian summer”…if it were PC. The last thing I want to do is offend the Native Americans (especially since yesterday was Columbus Day, and they haven’t cooled off yet). They really need to lighten up, though, and appreciate all the guilt gifts we have freely handed over to them. Maybe then they “casino” evil in us! P.S. I was a struggling stand-up comedienne in a former life.
Now on to the reason for the season…today is National Coming Out Day! What an auspicious occasion for closeted homosexual beings! Besides the expected shunning and outward rejection by disappointed parents, this holi-gay is the ultimate act of freedom and embracing one’s true identity. However, I have been collecting hidden fairies for years, and I have observed firsthand how “coming out” is no easy task for them. If I were a closeted full-on gayelle (lez be honest, I have my Sapphic moments), I would find it next to impossible to “come out.” I mean, truthfully, I could barely come out of a Vicodin-induced coma in ‘02! So, in order to do my good deed for the day, I am going to “out” a former bestie, Amanda Morrow. I’m sure she will appreciate the favor and thank me for my selfless act! As Exhibit A, I have included the following excerpt from the diary of my prepubescent years:
(Side note: Not only is this snippet evidence of Amanda’s lesbianism, but also research for my upcoming foray into authoring lesbian celebrity fan fiction. My first subject will be cokey Claire from “The Real L Word.”)
Today is April 3, 1996. That loser Unabomber was arrested by the FBI today. His reign of terror is over…but Mandy’s is not! First, at recess today, she was pushing me on the swings and totally tried to touch my girl zone. J.P. told me to call her a “carpet muncher” to embarrass her, but I thought it would be stupid/useless to call her a type of beetle. Then, when I confronted her and spit on her LA Gear Lights, she tried to pin me down and begged me to play a new, cooler version of “doctor” called “vaginacologist” or something like that. I broke free and ran away. How whacked is that beeotch!
Holy shnikies! So you’re never going to believe this, Diary! After school, she showed up at my ballet class! She said her mom just signed her up, and I know that’s not true because her mom is always passed out on her living room couch with a wine bottle in her hand. So, I was warming up and, no joke, she asked if she could lay on the floor and stick her head between my legs as I demi-plié to see how it’s done! I told her that she was out of her league and that she should go back to playing softball.
The next day, I saw her in the hallway, dressed exactly like me. This freaked me out, but not as much as when she turned to me, put two fingers up to her mouth, and…”