(no subject)
Okay, now this is a diary. Only because I transferred over my old one to a new one and forgot...everything, years ago. I'm exhausted, cranky, and still fucking bitter. Whatever comes after bitter-- I have a long-term lease.
I'm tired of trying to pretend that everything is okay, when I can't remember the last time that anything was. I'm tired of people thinking that I have anything to offer them other than misery and rage. That's all I have left.

This isn't meant to be a diary, a laundry list of people not to date or god-forbid, an advice column. Names and locations have been omitted to protect me, from having my ass hunted down and killed. You only think I'm kidding... And encounters will be listed in the order they were received, to the best of my recollection. If you live in a world where there is no pain or sadness, have an extreme intolerance for cynicism or are expecting a happy ending you should probably stop reading here. There is no happy ending. It isn't going to turn out like the guy who wrote My Ex-Wife's Wedding Dress and is now happily remarried and making thousands of dollars off of his book deal and website.  That said, what also is not appreciated is anyone who thinks they can "fix me", who commonly utters phrases like "true love happens when you're not looking" and who feels the need to post idiotic replies; they will be deleted. This isn't a book, I'm not selling you anything and I don't really care if you read it. If you're thinking "wow, she's such a bitch, no wonder she's single", at this point you're probably right. But the term is bitter lesbian, not happy optimistic lesbian and I've only just begun.

The Origin.
So, it has taken me a while to decide what I want to talk about first. Becoming bitter isn't something that you can pin down to one specific life event or moment in time. It doesn't happen from sucking too many lemons or from that one demon ex we all have had. For me at least it is a culmination of the last 13 years, starting with my first internet crush and ending with what you see today. So I guess what better way to properly introduce my plight than to tell you about the first girl who ripped my heart out and who paved the path for every other one to follow suit. 

I was 17, she was 23? I honestly can't really remember. We talked for about a month or possibly less. Online, on the phone; obviously, it was love. She was a stripper, lived out of state and had a roommate. At 17 I was about as oblivious as you get and my only contact with the lesbian world was the chat room where I met her. It was all perfect until she was supposed to come see me and never showed. Car trouble, health trouble and finally a confession that her "roommate" was her boyfriend and so sorry that I was so stupid. I cried for three days. I never even knew what she looked like. Yep, these were the days when people didn't regularly have pictures or profiles and the possibility of old pervy men was much higher, though thankfully I never ended up with one of those. 

Next came the baby bull-dyke who was my age and the second lesbian I ever met. She also looked exactly like a boy. I know, you're probably thinking "what's wrong with that?" but if you can hold off your judgement for a while, I can try to explain where I was coming from. I had a pretty typical (if slightly fanatical) religious upbringing. The word "gay" was forbidden in my home and for me there was no "typical lesbian" reference. I had never seen a lesbian movie, read a lesbian book and I didn't know why the girl I met didn't look like a girl. I was mystified and not entirely convinced she was female. As you will find out, I like to get myself into hard to explain, awkward situations and this was the first of many. I somehow went from hanging out with her and her friends to staying the night. She did have a cute friend that I liked (who very much looked like a girl) and I had nothing better to do. I slept on the floor and all was well until sometime in the middle of the night when the bull-dyke girl who was sleeping in the same room as me woke me up. Why? Well, yes, that was the question. Why didn't I like her? I believe my answer was something smooth like "I don't know" for which she proceeded to offer to work 3 jobs (not just two, but three) and buy me whatever I wanted if I would just be with her. I had known her for less than 24 hours at this point, was half-awake and I cleverly got out of it by asking if I could go back to sleep. I was a little more than disturbed. I went home the next day and never talked to her again. Honestly, the U-haulers still scare me. 

Nothing, absolutely nothing had prepared me for the girl I would meet not long after that. If I thought the first one was a bull-dyke, this one was 10x that, maybe more. I met her and some of her friends at Chuck-E-Cheese and as what was becoming a pattern, her friends were normal and cute and she was not. Though somehow they got me to agree to go with them to their "gay house" an hour or so south of where I lived.  And because stupidity always seemed like a good idea then, I went along with it. The gay house consisted of three lesbians and two or three gay men. Somehow this overnighter turned into three days of them partying and me repeatedly asking them to take me home since I didn't have a car or a drivers license. And oh yeah, the girl I met... had a mullet, claimed to have paralyzed a guy with her bare hands, repeatedly smacked her fat ass and claimed it was sexy and generally acted like an obnoxious douche. We were not impressed. I finally made it home generally unscathed, at least physically.

In my seventeenth year I also encountered the girl with the ass the size of texas, the hot (HOT) cheerleader my friend humiliated me in front of and the gas station attendant who chain smoked and was technically married. I will try to leave the less traumatic/interesting stories out since I have enough material to work with.

Obligatory Welcome Message.
Welcome to the diary of a bitter lesbian. I know you all have heard of the man hating lesbian, the u-haul lesbian and the toaster lesbian but I am not any of those. I'm just a dyke who is sick of women. Yep, that's right. Sick. Of. Women. I've had it with the drama and the lying, the snobbery and the general lesbian scene. I've had it with online dating, offline dating and meeting people through friends. Ladies night is a joke and the only decent lesbians I have met are so damn picky it floors me. At this point if I was bi, I would date men, but unfortunately I'm not. Not even a little bit. 

A little about me... I am 30 and single (the horror) and well, a lesbian. I live in New England and was born and raised west of here. I'm not going to be big on specifics because that isn't the point. I will tell you that I'm probably average on looks, below average on weight (not a supermodel but not overweight either), stable and semi-intelligent. I am employed, self-supporting and pretty low-key. 

I don't actually know entirely where I intend to take this and I can't guarantee that it won't be a rant-fest of dating horror stories or that anyone will actually read it but if anyone wants to commiserate, feedback is always welcome. Everyone has always said that I should write a book but since our economy sucks and my motivation is low I figured I would start with a blog. 


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