Pigeon Hold-up!

I keep hearing this phrase: "You don't want to pigeonhole yourself as a lesbian comic."

This is the funniest punch-line I've heard in some time. I find it akin to that silly parental suggestion that some girls get when they come out of the closet. Parents who want to be supportive, but really aren't okay with the gay thing often say something like: "We just don't want you to rule out the option of men. We feel you're limiting yourself." Hilarious. It's not like when the boy-crazy 6th grade girl comes home those parents say: "Have you ever thought about women?"

My mom, at first, was really rooting for me to be bisexual: "You'll double your chances!" Was this her motherly instinct clinging to some hope of a "normal" life for me—though let's face it, I'm not sure my life ever had a chance at normal with parents who used to frighten me into flossing by saying, "If you leave your teeth alone, they'll go away."—OR was this simply mom's way of saying that she knew I was SO IMPOSSIBLE that my only hope for finding someone was to open my options to every primate with opposing digits and the power of speech? Let's hope it was the former.

I should note that my mother has come a long way in the past few years. She's now giddy at the thought of a huge commitment ceremony with not one, but two white dresses. Two brides! Two wedding gowns! It's like the best Double-Mint commercial EVER!

...Maybe this explains my obsession with fem chicks. God forbid I fall for a lady with a penchant for pantsuits.

Anyway, to my original point about career: Telling me not to limit myself as a "Lesbian Comedian" or "Lesbian writer" seems a bit ridiculous. This is like someone taking Rachel Ray aside and saying, "Listen you might not want to pigeonhole yourself as a cook or writer of cook-books." It's like saying to Mr. Peanut, "Listen P, we know you're a delicious, distinguished legume, but some day you might want to date an almond, so perhaps you should brand yourself as a generic nut and not push the pea thing..." Speaking of nuts, though I may be one, I'm fairly certain I don't want any in my mouth unless of course, they fall into the category of legumes, seeds, or tree-nuts—but if we can learn anything from this rant, it is perhaps that labels and classifications should be left to Kingdom/Phylum/Class/Order/Family/Genus/Species…and of course the sticky labels on the outside of canned goods (such as nuts).

If I weren't so love-obsessed, perhaps I wouldn't be so "gay" in my material, but if I were a hetero comic/writer, I'd probably talk about relationships and dating just as much—only people would never say: "Listen, you don't want to limit yourself with all that hetero material. Maybe you shouldn't even mention your sexual orientation…" It's a double-standard I simply wont stand for, harumph!

Homosexuality interests me a great deal. From the culture of the gays in our natural habitats, to our interactions with those in the outside world; from the restaurants we frequent (in NY: Vinyl, Deborah, Kate's Joint, and The Kitchen Club just to name a few…) to the dress-codes and their social implications; I continue to be fascinated by the things I have in common with The Gay and the things I have no clue about. As I continue to absorb and observe, I'll share these lessons in a (hopefully) humorous way to anyone who will listen/read. I'm not trying to convert anyone to my way of thinking, I'm not judging anyone else, I'm just trying to figure out what a "Lesbian" is, and what the hell a "Pigeon Hole" is...

…I've never seen a pigeon make a hole in anything, nor have I observed one being hindered or restricted by anything with a hole. In fact, the very nature of a hole seems to lend itself to freedom/escape. Are they having trouble getting out of some hole? Funny that I end this lesbian article by obsessing over a hole… Dirty… Just one… Couldn't help it… Love the periods of ellipses… Like tiny little pigeon-holes…Wherever they are…

After searching for images for this blog, I suddenly realized what a pigeon hole is... While I refuse to revise this ramble, I must say I think they look like cozy cubbies for our feathered buddies. And why anyone would avoid having their own space OF ANY SIZE is completely beyond me (spoken like a true New Yorker newly living alone). Pigeon-holes for everyone!