It’s time to vote again, dears. Remember - you can vote for Grace The Spot once every 24 hours! CLICK HERE AND DO AS I SAY OR THE CATS GET IT! (I knew that would get you lezzies hopping over to the polls… *Puts down Gertrude and Alice*)

So I had the opportunity to check out our competition for Best New Blog of 2008, and I was shocked to discover that a person who calls herself “Uppity Woman” is crushing us. I am at a loss to understand what caused this most perplexing turn of events, because, as you all know, there is nothing more uppity than a group of lesbians. Dear sisters, please summon all of your uppitude and rectify this wrong. Until this “Uppity Woman” character defers to the wall of uppitudinal hellfire that can only be brought by a mob of overly-competitive lesbians, the universe is not right.

We are also being beaten by a Republican. On his blog, he states that his mission is to “pimp slap” Liberals. But he left a nice comment in an earlier post, so he’s aight. But we must still kick his arse anyway. To the polls you go!

Now that you have voted for Grace The Spot again (you did, didn’t you?), allow me to suggest a couple of other uppity lesbians and uppity friends of lesbians to vote for in other categories:

• Mombian: Sustenance for Lesbian Moms for Best Large Blog
• This Girl Called Automatic Win for Best LGBT Blog
• Blue Gal for Best Liberal Blog

Happy clicking!

Update: It looks like Wonkette is trying to throw the competition, because they don’t like PUMAs. PUMAs are basically pissed off liberals and moderates who don’t like Obama. (By the way, if you are one of those dweebs who find my definition of “PUMA” objectionable and care enough to tell me how incorrect I am, kiss my ass. Take that shit to LGF or Kos or whatever.) In any event, they are choosing random blogs for their zillions of readers to vote for just so any PUMA blog won’t win. For that reason, I would like to endorse all PUMA blogs everywhere (unless they are running against Grace The Spot, in which case, they suck - not because they are PUMAs, but because they are standing between us and a cool badge we can put on our site that no one else will care about). So, Uppity Woman, we would endorse you, except we are out to crush you.

P.S. Readers, I’m still an Obama supporter. Don’t trip. I just don’t like spiteful shenanigans. Especially when it moves me from 3rd to 4th place.

Editor’s note: Remember to vote for Grace The Spot here. ——————————————–
Lesbians love board shorts. While shopping for Christmas gifts in Pacific Sunwear WAY back in 2008, I ran into a few dyke-a-likes in the board short section. When I was walking around Long Beach, I noticed a group of lesbians wearing plaid board shorts as they gave me the head nod of solidarity. At the bar, plaid shorts and long skate shorts also seem to ring true as a calling card for the sapphic sisterhood. They are everywhere. It’s a lesbian phenomenon.

Forget the trendy haircut or the wallet chain. You can also leave your baseball caps at home. These shorts cross all barriers. Board shorts are freedom personified. They are roomy, have ample pockets for the things one would normally use a purse for, and they can be made for swimming at a moment’s notice. They can come in styles that go beyond the board: Cargo, Skate, and Skinny. Each can be used as swim trunks or they can be land use only. Baggy cargo, skate, and board shorts are usually reserved for the chapstick lesbian or the dykes. The skinnier you get with your shorts, the more you move toward those of the femme persuasion or the straight girl who wishes she could be as cool as the lesbians that she is friends with.

There are no rules with the shorts; they can come in all colors and sizes. Plaid, floral, striped, or plain, it doesn’t matter. You just need a pair. Trust me - they will change your life and your cargo space.

(Warning: As board shorts might be regional in their popularity, necessity is up to the individual lesbian. What applies in CA might not apply in PA. Results may vary.)

Click here to vote for Grace The Spot for the Best New Weblog of 2008! Go! Go! Go! It takes two seconds. Vote early and often. You can vote once a day. And like eating apples, you should! Do it for the starving children in Africa and to spite the starving children on Wall Street!

Also, another fabulous blog, This Girl Called Automatic Win is up for best LGBT blog, so vote for it in the LGBT category. We’re underdogs, but we have sharp teeth and bite really hard. And hopefully you think that we are entertaining enough to vote for us. So love us, okay?

Little known fact. I cringe whenever someone utters the words “Let’s grab coffee.” Every time. The words come spewing out and, like clockwork, my muscles tense and I fight the overwhelming urge to respond, “No thanks. I’d rather have a root canal.”

Now, don’t get me wrong. I’ve got nothing against coffee. Actually, I’m known throughout my entourage for being a caffeine junkie - Peach Snapple, lattes, Diet Cokes, chai teas, etc. And God forbid if I don’t have my morning sugar-free Red Bull. Without it, let’s just say I’m anything but chipper.

And the same goes for coffee shops in general. I, like most card carrying lezzies, have a deep, unwavering love for them. Give me a worn in arm chair, light acoustic music, a New York Times crossword (preferably a Thursday edition since I like a challenge), and a good latte and I’m happier than a dyke at a 50% sale at American Eagle.

My real issue, though, is with the phrase “Let’s grab coffee” itself. C’mon ladies. Can’t we get a little more creative than that? We’re intellectual/ confident/ savvy/ powerful/ (insert Feminism 101 term here) beings, and yet time and time again we fall back on this catch-all phrase in order to say indirectly, “Hey. I really want to spend some one on one time with you.”

So why not spice it up a bit and let your unique personality shine through?

Here are some example to get your creative juices flowing:

1. “Hey. Wanna hit up the batting cages with me?”
2. “How about a few rounds of drinks and darts?”
3. “I think your chocolate lab and mine need a puppy playdate.”
4. “Any chance you play Scrabble?” ( my personal favorite)

So, ladies, I beg you… Please, save the Chai Tea and Scones for a “I’ve just had my heart ripped out and run over by a Subaru” sorta day! ‘Cause we all know a little spontaneity can really go a long way.

Taking part in the yearly resolution ritual ties us to a thousand, thousand years of unrealized good intentions. (Eat more vegetables, less brontosaurus.) Here and there, we actually keep some of these things, so let’s proceed, shall we?

• Here’s the “gimme”: Take care of yourself. Easy on the smokes and alcohol, and a little exercise would not kill you. The world needs more of you in it, so hang around as long as you can.
• Let other people be happy with incremental progress while you insist on full equality for GLBT Americans (or a really good tax break).
• No crazy chicks. Though admittedly hot in bed, crazy chicks will trash your life, and you are getting too old for that s&#t, nothing personal.
• Be here now. Don’t get so caught up in whatever’s on your mind that you miss the little moments, like the cat rubbing against your ankles first thing in the morning, or the smile on your baby’s face when she spots you in a crowd.
• Be safe. Be well. Be spectacular.

Grace Chu asked me to write a New Years Day post. And, while I realize most of our fair readers won’t get out of bed before the day is up, let alone make it to their computers to check in on our fair site, I’d like to live the illusion that I’ll be the first one in the blogosphere to wish you a very happy 2009. I hope you all keep your resolutions (at least for the day) and that the coming months bring you all the love & success you want.

I love this reflective time of year, love that it brings about sentimentality in even the most cynical of critics, love that it inspires examination and evaluation of our lives, our friends, and careers. Hopefully, we’re spending this time taking a look at patterns that have evolved, changes that have been made, and dreams that we continue to strive for—taking stock to see what we can do to better ourselves and our personal circumstances. We can choose to be judgmental and negative, bemoaning our blunders and criticizing our cowardice; or we can be proactive and plan for the future, adjust for our shortcomings and fix our faults.

I’d like to declare this year: Two Thousand and MINE—whatever that means to you. Make it your own. Spend time with people that make you feel good. Go where the happy is—if you haven’t found it, spend some time alone until it finds you. Support your friends, love your neighbor, all that good stuff. But mostly, take ownership of it all. Don’t be a victim of circumstance. There is a Robert Collier quote that reads: “If you don’t make things happen then things will happen to you.” We all have those friends who complain about a bad girlfriend, a crummy job, or an abusive friend—but they never break up, look for work, or confront the friend. There are excuses like “she needs me,” or “it’s a rough job market,” or “but I’ve known her so long…”—these are things we tell ourselves in order to perpetuate a mediocre situation and stay in a position that is less than beneficial so as not to rock the boat. I’m gonna hit you with another quote now: “No one will change the status quo until the status quo becomes more uncomfortable than change.” And one more for good measure: “Everything will change. The only question is in growing up or decaying.”—Nikki Giovanni

So here’s to growing up. Here’s to being proactive, to changing in order to better ourselves rather than just avoiding our own destruction. Change is the buzzword of the year (Ryan Seacrest said so last night on New Years Rockin’ Eve—and yes, I did just quote Ryan Seacrest, for the record.), so let’s really do something positive, let’s make moves to change for the better. Let’s make 2009 our own. Be the person you want to be, be with the person you want to be with, have the job you want to have, and have a beautiful, wonderful year.

We interrupt our vacation for a short announcement. Grace The Spot has been nominated for Best New Blog in the 2008 Weblog Awards!!! Voting will begin January 5th, 2009, so tell your BFF, everyone in your entourage, the people who used to be in your entourage, everyone at Wellesley, everyone at all other ridiculously expensive colleges, everyone who was smart enough not to shell out $150,000 for a useless degree, the people you text because you don’t want to speak to them, the exes you’re still friends with (and even the ones that you’re not), your inappropriate crush, your non-sexual life partner, Alice from The Brady Bunch and anyone and everyone else to get ready to do some gratuitous licking clicking on our behalf.

We’d like to thank the little people.

Our dedicated writers.

And, of course, our loyal readers! (We’re not worthy! We’re not worthy!)

We leave you with a music video, which stars the delicious Jennifer Beals and her equally delicious and much more limber stunt double (call me!), to commemorate this delicious new development. Enjoy!

Yes, we’re still alive, but even bloggers need vacations. We’ll be back with new content on January 1. Until then, check out the full list of Stuff Lesbians Like. Been there, done that? Check out the most popular blog posts of 2008 on AfterEllen. Seen that too? Then start a debate in the comment section below. Any topic. But make sure you start fighting over something really petty, like grammar and spelling, so you retain internet street cred.

Until the shiny apple in Times Square washes this wretched year of 2008 away… peace out!

I have noticed a trend in my lesbian entourages from around the country involving something I loathe and fear at the same time - karaoke. Karaoke is an activity that unites people who can’t sing and brings them together under severely inebriated circumstances to live out their dreams of being the next Melissa Etheridge.

The night usually starts out with someone calling the bottom of the lesbian phone tree.

Lesbian 1: I think we should go to Karaoke. Round up the group.
Lesbian 2 & 7: Lesbian 1 thinks we should go to Karaoke. Get up and meet us there at 9pm.
Lesbian 3, 6, & 8: I don’t know.
Lesbian 2 & 7: It will be fun. We can make fun of the straight people.
Lesbian 3, 6, & 8: Okay. No one better sing Drive like they did last time.
Dyke (or lesbian 4): No!
Lesbian 1-8: We are on our way to your house to get you. Plus, Lesbian 3 says she will buy you a beer.
Dyke: Damn.

The night starts with a round of beer and a few games of pool before venturing out to the patio where Karaoke is set up underneath a sign that reads “KARAOKE WITH DJ FUNKENSTEIN EVERY THURSDAY STARTING AT 8PM: BRING YOUR FRIENDS FOR A NIGHT OF BOOGIE FEVER.” DJ Funkenstein is usually a balding, middle-aged man wearing all black, who takes the interludes to sing songs that should have stayed and been lost forever in the 70s or 80s. That just isn’t the case at Karaoke. Songs like “Achy Breaky Heart” are alive and well in Karaoke land. They are usually sung by DJ Funkenstein as a ploy to get someone else to sing. Your ears start bleeding, and you tell your friends, “I haven’t had nearly enough to drink, but I will get up there if this guy would stop singing immediately.” Everyone concurs, but no one actually goes to relieve DJ Funkenstein. Not yet. You all need a smoke out on the patio first.

The process of karaoke is different for all, but almost no one, except the karaoke regulars, sings at the beginning of the hour. You might look like you enjoy karaoke if you do that. That is a first-timers mistake. The rules with karaoke involve not letting anyone know you like it, even if you do actually enjoy karaoke. Acting like it is your friend’s fault that you are up singing a Britney Spears song is absolutely vital. After all, you would NEVER have picked out that song in a million years, and if you sing it, someone owes you a beer.

The other rule for Karaoke is to never sign up for a song on your own. The group must collectively egg you on, fill out the sheet, and send it in for you. If you fill out the sheet yourself, you might actually look like you enjoy this sort of activity. Even if you do, you must NEVER look like you do.

If you, by chance, happen to find a gay or lesbian Karaoke night, you will be remembering the classics. There isn’t a night that goes by someone doesn’t sing “I Will Survive,” “Closer to Fine,” “Power of Two,” “It’s Raining Men,” or “Shoop.” At gay and lesbian bars, the lyrics to straight songs tend to change. There is inevitably going to be referencing to a part of the female anatomy, or saying the girl ran away with you instead of the singer. Changing the words to songs is a must for lesbian street credibility. If you actually say you are running away with the man, the looks start coming your way from other patrons at the bar, because you obviously don’t know the rules.

When I am forced to sing karaoke, I tend to stick to my favorites. I usually choose “Piano Man” by Billy Joel, “Ice Ice Baby” by Vanilla Ice, or “Goodbye Earl” from the Dixie Chicks. The last choice tends to be when I am in Northern California around my country music listening college friends. Having your songs is a must if you don’t want to sing pop songs you don’t know the lyrics to. Note these songs require less singing ability and usually the crowd joins along. You are not out there to win American Idol, but to make your friends smile and laugh at you, thereby earning yourself a free drink.

Karaoke is a social time. It’s a time of sharing a good beer, in a sketchy bar, with your good friends. With that, my song is up. Someone owes me a beer.

I have a love-hate relationship with the holidays based solely on… holiday parties. Whether it is thrown by your place of work, friends or your drunk Uncle Dan, socializing at these annual events is a perfect way to catch up on the dirt that you’ve somehow missed, mingle if you’re single, or have an eggnog. Or three.

Holiday parties allow me to prance around in my wickedly awesome Christmas sweater, complete with bells perfectly sewn onto each titular area. It’s a great conversation piece. Coupled with that glass or three of eggnog, I’m friendly Grace “Ringing Tits” Yip chatting up a storm with friends new and old.

Then it happens. There’s always “that lesbian” who treats the party like it’s a fucking debate-match-that-she-participated-in-1993-but-sorely-lost-to-some-chick-who-
later-won-a-Rhodes-but-said-loser-is-now-reliving-the-debate-in-her-head-and-
still-trying-to-win-it.

Regardless of the subject matter, these buzzkills are intense chatterboxes whose eyeballs pop out when they are making a point. They lean in too closely. They shake their fists. You can see the veins bulge out of their necks. And they won’t. Shut. Up. Maybe it’s the alcohol. Maybe it’s the sugar. Maybe it’s politics/state of the world that fuels such intensity. I don’t know. I don’t care. I do not wish to listen to your screechy manifesto. I do not care how enlightened you think you are.

• I do not want to hear your hackneyed and cynical take on No on Prop 8 and your sanctimonious bullshit about all the queers who you believe aren’t being served by the marriage movement.
• I do not want to get into a debate about gun control. It makes we want to go out and buy an uzi.
• I know the economy is collapsing, but if you were in charge of the Fed, the economy would still be collapsing.

I just want to eat my fucking reindeer cookie, bitch.

In peace.

Merry Christmas to all!