I'm currently straight out of Harriet the Spy. Remember the old lady who lounged all day in bed until her doctor told her she had to stay in bed all day? She was out of there like a shot. My doctor said I can't go running until my blood pressure's gone down, and now all I want to do is go running. I'm not out like a shot yet, though.

I read some essay a while ago.... hmm. Do we call blog posts essays? I think not. If you don't get paid or school credit for it, it's not an essay.

Okay I read this thing a while ago that said that Harriet was gay. The gist of the thing was because Harriet was sort of a slob and wore the same clothes over and over she had lesbian tendencies.

Now I can't find the damn thing. But here's what I know: If usually not giving much of a crap about clothing is the main indication of lesbianism, I don't have a straight bone in my body.


  1. If wearing sloppy clothes is a dead giveaway for teh gay, well, I guess I'm a lesbian too.

  2. well, if that's YOU, dean, it could be argued that you are a lesbian. . . . at least that's my husband's argument.

    He has a theory that to avoid the whole weirdness of homophobia, one should ignore the sex of the lover and only concentrate on the sex of the lovee--or the Loved One (heh, just heard that on tape. What a gruesome, funny guy that Waugh was).

    Anyway, back to Mike's point: all men and women who want women would be lesbians. And all women and men who want men would be gay. Or some other term, perhaps. We can work on that. Or rather, he can. I have to concentrate on not exercising. silly.

  3. Well, Harriet's *author* was gay, if that makes any difference.


Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

what I'm talking about above--the letter in RWR

My Writing Day with an Unproductive Brain