Sunday, February 6, 2011

Today I moved into a new apartment in what my friends and I call "the gayborhood." Yes, to all those lesbians who watched "The L Word" and believed its ridiculous caricature of the Midwest, we do in fact have gayborhoods in good ol' Missourah. Speaking of them, this move was accomplished quickly and painlessly by a bunch of short yet mighty queer women who showed up to help and stuck with me even when my dad took fifteen minutes to get the Uhaul out of the ice patch from hell.

Later when my mom (speaking of awesome woman role models...) took us all out for Thai food, I sat back and looked around and realized that we had just moved a bunch of furniture on our own with the need for any men. This was an empowering moment. Okay, yeah, my dad was there, but he is 5'4" and really no stronger than bear with me for the point of the story. The point is, I had been somewhat terrified a week earlier when I realized I had a bunch of furniture to move and basically no male friends left in St. Louis. What would I do? Would the lesbians be enough? My friends assured me that they would be, but neurotic Jewish worrier that I am, I still had my doubts.

Which was monumentally stupid, of course. Never again will I doubt the power of a few determined dykes to efficiently do my heavy lifting. I'm even thinking of starting a moving company based on the concept. How hilarious would the commercials be? "From the community that has kept the UHaul in business for so many years...Don't you want us to there for your move?" "We'll pack up your house. Trust us. We know boxes." (Boxes...hahahah)

No, but really. Can we at least make T-Shirts along these lines and sell them at Pride? I'm seeing gangbusters.