Being in the theater, musical comedy in particular, I have had more than my fair share of gay friends. 

It took me an inordinately long time to figure out that a gay man may love me – but he doesn’t want to “love” me if you catch my drift.  (If you don’t catch my drift, I’m saying he may love me but he doesn’t want to fuck me – got it?  Good.  Moving on.)

It’s just not fair.

My gay friends are smart, funny, know how to dress and dance – and honestly, what’s not to love? 

I had so many gay men in my life, that my mother actually asked me about it – she wanted to know if her being divorced had “affected” me in some way?  (No, mom, it was more likely you marrying that stupid and mean CIS hetero man that “affected” me in some way.  He was a model of everything I didn’t want in my life.  Moving on.)

I never seemed to meet any eligible men; possibly because I spent all my free time surrounded by my male gay friends. 

Any prospective dating material seemed to be confused by the fact that I lived with a man – a gay man – but a man nonetheless.  I found most CIS hetero men are even slower on grasping that gay men aren’t looking to fuck everyone – that gay men (mostly) stay in their own lane – you know, just like (most) CIS hetero men.  These CIS hetero gentlemen seemed to think that if there was a penis in the house, it must be poking something.  – They just couldn’t understand that this penis was looking elsewhere for entertainment.

I think having lots of gay friends helped me a lot when I finally moved out on my own and started dating.  My first rule was anyone I dated had to be okay with the sexual orientation of my friends (and by that time, I was singing with the Metropolitan Community Church of the Valley, so I now had quite a few lesbian friends).  That worked as a great filtering process. 

I finally met and married my husband, and now I have friends of many and diverse sexual persuasions and gender identification, and it’s all good.

But there will always be a special corner of my heart (beautifully decorated, of course) for my “boys”.  They taught me a lot about friendship, family, and love – besides teaching my what to wear and how to properly apply makeup. 

Sadly, I’m never going to be much of a dancer no matter how hard people try!  Hey, they are people not miracle workers!

However, as you can tell from the photo below, I was also able to hone my baking skills!


  1. Am almost afraid to ask this BUT…are you my sister from another mister???? The person who gives new meaning to “something for the boys”? Seriously – all those guys I worked with in musicals – many taken by
    AIDS years ago – what great men they were! The costumers, dancers, stage managers and an accompanist
    I remember fondly: a killer at the keyboard AND the best Carol Channing impersonation (her lisping silent
    movie star character) ever. Worked with a number of guys from MCC, too.

    May have to stop reading your posts – they’re leaving me drowning in nostalgia & wondering where the good
    old days actually went.

    Keep on, keep on : you’re speaking for all the musical theatre ladies & we need you.
    Hoping you’re feeling more together in your head today.

  2. When I trim my Christmas tree, I am overwhelmed by nostalgia as I hang up ornaments that were gifts from dear friends who AIDS took away. I do believe that we have lived each other’s life! I am doing much better these days – got some good insight and things to work on from my (new) psychologist. Baby steps.

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