Monday, May 7, 2012


This isn't about the singer dude, or the dog breed. That'd make too much sense.

You see, I play ultimate frisbee with some Baptists on some Sundays. It's a lot of fun, but for the last year or so, I hadn't been joining in. Life was way too busy for me, plus the friend that I went to it with left, so I didn't really know anyone who played anymore. I mean, I knew them in that "there's that guy who's good", but nothing beyond that.

This past Sunday, I rejoined. My body today thinks that this was a mistake, but it's slowly getting over itself.

Well, I walked up to the field (which is right next to a cemetary. More than once I have gone head-over-heels across a tombstone) and immediately the older guy who runs the show spotted me. He stared for a second, then shouted, "Pitbull? That you?"

I couldn't believe it. They remembered me! They'd dubbed me "Pitbull" because of my aggressive nature, and because once I grab onto someone I'm not going to let go until the frisbee is out of his hands. In real ultimate frisbee, this is against the rules. Here, the only rule is to not maim anyone too seriously.

When Jacob, the man's son and my biggest adversary on the field, drove up, his dad yelled gleefully, "Jacob! Pitbull's here! Make sure you're wearing your cup!"

Jacob promptly groaned and grinned at the same time. People often have that reaction around me when it comes to sports.


I've always been a tomboy. I'm loud, I'm aggressive, and I can kick some ass. I can throw a football better than a lot of boys, I can tackle, I can spit pretty damn far, and when I go to hit, it's a punch, not a slap. Throughout the years, I've been called Pitbull, Rottie, Wolf, Lion, anything that sounded fierce and masculine.

In recent years, I've become a touch more feminine. I wear dresses and skirts now, I put on makeup, and I paint my nails. Does this mean I'm any less aggressive? Not in the slightest. There's a reason my self-defense teacher said that I'm one of the only ones he's not worried about.

The only thing that bothers me about being so... contradictory, I suppose you could call it, is that people don't seem to think of me as a girl. Despite having a rather nice rack (I come from a long line of well-endowed women, and at the rate I'm going, I'm going to fit right in) and a vagina, people still assume that I'm incapable of girly emotions.

When I wear a dress, people act like it's a big deal. You know what? Sometimes I just want to wear a dress. They're fun to twirl in. Yes, I like to twirl.

When I put on makeup, people act like I've broken some covenant. I can wear makeup if I want. It brings out my better features and hides the breakouts I get at certain times of the month. In other words, it's useful stuff.

When I admit that I *gasp* have feelings, people get freaked out. Like what, tomboys can't like boys or want to cry or feel like screaming in rage? Au contraire.

Now, this isn't to say that EVERYONE treats me like some sexless creature that is neither a man nor a woman. Plenty of men want to have sex with me, and some even like me. Plenty of girls understand where I'm coming from. But those men are never the ones I like, and those girls still seem intimidated by me.

Of course, that could be because I have a proclivity to attack first, ask questions later.