First of all: Hi. I’m fat. Let’s get that cleared up before someone finds a picture of me and posts it on Twitter.

Also, as you can tell from the blog name, I’m queer. Before we get to that part, let me tell you a bit more about myself.

I have always wanted to be a writer, but I was horrible at school. College I handled fairly well, but high school was another beast. I couldn’t listen to an instructor while there was a window I could look out of or a desk that needed to be drawn on. I was a good student, but being there drained every bit of my soul. Perhaps it was the people I attended with that I just didn’t like, but either way, it was terriblehorribleexhaustingnotworthitpleaseletmesleep. Hashtag that, folks.

Enough about stupid, stupid school. Let’s get to what you really want to read about: MY RECIPES. Just kidding, I can’t even boil water.
I’m not really sure when I realized I wasn’t straight. I know this has been said thousands of times, but I remember feeling different as a kid. I couldn’t quite figure myself out, and that was incredibly frustrating. I wanted a label for everything and everyone. He*k, I don’t think I knew what gay meant until I was a teenager and even then it never really clicked with me. One specific memory I always go back to was when I was around 6 years old, I was on my bike. Exciting, right? There was nothing happening, I was just enjoying the view of the sandy beach and beautiful waves, but I remember feeling so strongly that I wanted to be a boy. I wanted everyone to stop treating me “like a girl.” Why couldn’t I play hockey with the older boys? Why did I have to watch from afar and be told girls can’t play? I could play a shit load better than most of those boys. TAKE ME AS ONE OF YOUR OWN.

As an adult now (yeah right, he*kin’ taxes amirite), I understand that allowing a 6-year-old to play a rough sport with a bunch of teenage boys would not have been smart. I could have injured one of them when I kicked them in the balls for calling me “little girl.” Unsafe indeed. Seriously, this memory of me wanting to be a boy is so vivid. I didn’t identify with being a girl because I wanted to do “boy stuff.” Of course, smart as I am now, I understand that GENDER IS NOTHING. What is boy and girl stuff? Why do I have to buy fucking pants with no pockets in them?! To confirm that I am indeed a girl? Bullshit, I want pants with pockets that I could park a mini cooper in. If you want to wear makeup and a skirt, you go right ahead and do you. If you want to shave your head and wear a suit and tie, do it. Be safe though. It’s so fucking sad, but you really have to be 100% aware of your surroundings now. Not everybody appreciates your ability to be authentically you.

I first heard a Tegan and Sara song in 2007. It was “Call It Off.” Something about both of those women intrigued me. I had no idea what it was until I saw the music video. I wasn’t attracted to them, I just saw that they were talented, gay ladies. OH SHIT. It finally hit me that maybe I wasn’t straight. I don’t know what set off that gay signal in my head, but it finally reached me. I researched and researched these women. I found more fantastic music and more gay ladies. PERFECT. Then I found AfterEllen and Heather Hogan. Fantastic, wonderful, glorious, perfect Heather Hogan. She opened me up (get your mind out of your mothers toilet) to a beautiful place with such an understanding and supportive group of individuals. I was home and I belonged, even if it was just on Twitter. Even if I didn’t post very much to interact with all the writers. I still felt like I was someone. Everyone, just so you know, I am aware that AfterEllen is a shitpit of filth now, so head over to Autostraddle where you will be welcomed and loved.

Seriously though, I consider myself to be queer but I just don’t know what “brand” of queer. I’m not straight, I get that. I could be an abundance of things. I don’t know if I could like everybody or nobody. Not having a label for myself is totally fine with me now. I’m not a can of soup anyways, I don’t need one.