Ten Things I Learned at my First Michigan Womyn’s Festival
by Amy Wimburger
- Deep in my heart, I am a 14 year old boy. I find it hard to keep my eyes on the face of a topless woman with great breasts.
- When I see a woman who knocks my socks off, I lose the ability to speak. I want to punch her in the shoulder, blurt out, ‘You’re cute!” and run away. (See #1 above re: 14 year old boy.)
- Women who drive tractors are hot. As are sign-language interpreters.
- Sign-language interpreters who interpret Led Zepplin songs are smokin’ hot.
- I am not the only one out there. Of anything.
- Being short/tall/fat/skinny/geeky/old/young/white/black/differently-abled/a parent/childless/poor/rich/bald/mustached/femme/butch or anything is not a barrier to true love. (Or even a Festi-hook up.) There truly is someone for everyone.
- Given half a second, little girls will run around naked, covered in mud and brandishing sticks at wolves, mean people and robbers, just like little boys.
- That the young girl in the butch parade who stole my heart could make me cry with joy for the generation of girls being raised by mothers who bring them to Fest.
- My tent does, in fact, leak.
- Everyone really is beautiful at MichFest. Including me!
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