I recently met an ambitious, attractive, charming, talented, and terrific young woman. One MAJOR problem, though: It turns out this close friend, whom I felt so strongly about, is a racist. Although she has never explicitly voiced her racism, it’s apparent in some subtle comments she’s made. Learning my friend harbored these feelings hurt me. Apparently, it wasn’t obvious to her that I come from a multiracial background. I’m saddened and upset. Do you have any idea how one goes about healing from this kind of experience?
If you met this ambitious, attractive, charming, talented, and terrific young racist “recently,” just how close a friend could she possibly be? Not all that close, I would argue, and therefore your “wounded” routine seems a bit overblown. Yes, W, it’s always disappointing — upsetting even — when someone whose acquaintance we’ve recently made turns out to be a flaming asshole, whether they’re...
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...someone whose acquaintance we’ve recently made turns out to be a flaming asshole, whether they’re racist or sexist or monarchist or whateverist. That’s why you should allow for plenty of time to get to know someone before making yourself too vulnerable. If you’d waited to learn more about this woman before you decided she was all that and the now-proverbial bag of chips, you wouldn’t have been hurt when she proved to be none of that and wholly lacking in chips.
How do you go about healing from this traumatic experience? You make up your mind to get over it — stop that pathetic wallowing right now, dammit! — and resolve to take things a bit slower next time you meet someone. And finally, W, whatever the color of your skin — and I suspect it’s as white or whiter than my own — you might want to think about thickening it a bit.
My girlfriend and I moved in together a few months ago, and I occasionally find myself waking up in the middle of the night to the sounds and motions of her masturbating in bed. She vehemently denies she’s doing this. She’s an open-minded, liberated woman, and I can’t imagine she would be ashamed of masturbating. Is she doing it in her sleep? Is this even possible? If so, what are some of the theories explaining why?
It’s entirely possible that your liberated girlfriend masturbates in her sleep: Women have wet dreams, just like guys, though they do leave less evidence behind. As for theories, well, it could be that she’s going to bed horny, or she’s having erotic dreams about Orrin Hatch, or she’s just really excited about her new sheets. To convince your girlfriend she’s a late-night masturbator, I suggest you purchase a camcorder and hide it under the bed. The next time she has a go at herself in the middle of the night, retrieve your camcorder and make a “semi-documentary.”
Shame on you, Dan Savage! In response to Woman Into Guys you said, “women willing to tolerate men who cross-dress are few and far between.” When I’m out in drag and I tell women I meet that I’m not gay, their eyes light up! Right now I have the most understanding, sweet, and wonderful girlfriend in the world, and like my last five girlfriends she knew I wore dresses BEFORE we went out! She thinks I look hot in “uniform,” and also thinks I look hot in a suit. WIG’s boyfriend could easily find women into cross-dressing by simply being dressed up when he meets them. (It would help, though, if he lived in NYC or SF.) If WIG’s boyfriend should “feel like he won the lottery” because he found someone who tolerates his cross-dressing, then apparently I win the lottery all the time!
Won the Lottery
Thanks for writing, WL, but I stand by my advice. Since you’re primarily meeting women at cross-dressing parties — which is a good strategy — you’re not exactly meeting a random sample. Women at the parties you go to have preselected themselves as drag-positive by turning up at these functions in the first place. Which is all good for you, but since most male cross-dressers don’t live in New York City or San Francisco (statistics show most live in Calgary and Nashville), most meet women the old-fashioned way, i.e. wearing gender-appropriate clothing. Again I say, cross-dressers who find themselves with women who tolerate or, better still, thrill to the sight of men in dresses should count themselves lucky indeed.
I just wanted to say that Transgorilla is full of shit. She said women shouldn’t date men who cross-dress because these guys will want sex change operations at some point. I am a 30-year-old cross-dresser who enjoys the occasional fantasy role-reversal in bed, and I am perfectly happy being a male! I have no desire to grow breasts or cut off my dick! I do not think of myself as a lesbian! There is a difference between transsexuals who feel they are women and transvestites who just get off on wearing the clothes. Most of us are very happy being men!
Happy Male in Panties
But if you ever do get a sex change, HMIP, do me this small favor: Don’t run around dressed up like my grandmother. Most of the women-born-women I know dress in jeans, T-shirts, boots, and wear little, if any, makeup. Why is it that most of the male-to-female transsexuals I know dress in matronly skirts, blouses with Peter Pan colors, have complicated “hairdos,” and wear lots and lots of makeup? What gives?
I was at my bus stop and couldn’t help overhearing a young gentleman conversing with another. “My bitches been busy with WTO,” he said. I was wondering if you, a person with his finger on the sexual pulse of Seattle, has any information about a sudden rise in prostitution during the WTO’s stay in Seattle. Is it possible that the delegates had more than one type of “trade” in mind?
Har, har, har. As your letter arrived at The Stranger before a single WTO delegate arrived in Seattle, I have to assume you were trying to be amusing, HPJ. If anything, odds are the WTO was bad for that kind of business. Security downtown was tight, and any “bitches” attempting to enter hotels would have been gassed by cops in creepy storm-trooper outfits before they could service a single delegate. Why would you bother making up creepy stuff about the WTO, HPJ? There were plenty of disturbing things going on in town last week without your lame embellishments.
For instance, the number of smelly white guys with dreadlocks in town last week was particularly disturbing. Sitting in Hot Mama’s Pizza on Pine Street, trying to eat a veggie slice, I almost fainted from the fumes given off by three skanky anarchists sitting next to me. They were wearing Nikes, sipping Cokes and talkin’ ’bout a revolution. Ahem. Guys: No where did Marx or Engels or Mao write that soap and water was the enemy. If I may paraphrase Emma Goldman: If the boys don’t bathe, I don’t wanna be a part of your revolution.
Speaking of the WTO: Apparently some asshole is making pro-police state posts under my name on newsgroups and local websites. For the record, I think the police were in the wrong last week, and I support the demonstrators. I even approve of tactical window smashing, having smashed a few windows at demos myself. Anyone can post anything on a newsgroup or a website under anyone’s name, so don’t assume posts made by “d. savage” were made by this Savage. In fact, if you see anything posted on a website signed by me, you can assume that I didn’t write it: Writing is what I do for a living, and I don’t do it for free.
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