Delightful dyke things

For some reason Portland, Oregon celebrates pride in July.

Hi! Good morning!

I have not written in a long time! Six weeks, to be exact, which I cannot believe. I want to say that I haven’t written because summer swept me up in all its glory, but the truth is that mostly I haven’t written because I’ve felt like shit. I have a mystery illness (chronic fatigue, long covid, POTS, WHO CAN SAY!?) and it’s long lasting, DEEPLY annoying, and has mostly left me feeling like I either have nothing to say or probably there is something to say, but I forgot what it was because I have brain fog so thick I simply cannot see through it. Things are a little better now, which I will write about…later. Maybe. Possibly.

What I will write about now, is lesbianism.

As you may know, pride month is the month of June—pretty much worldwide. Pride is in June because it commemorates Stonewall, a series of protests for gay rights that began in NYC in June 1969. Bricks were thrown. Trans women were at the forefront. The resistance is widely credited with launching the gay liberation movement.

Portland, though? We do pride in July. Why!? I don’t know!!! It bothers me!!! Do we have no reverence for our homosexual ancestors and their timelines?!?!?

As a gay, I feel compelled to write about gay stuff that I like pretty much year round. I will use this as my excuse for writing not at all in June and present you with a better late than never attitude, just like Portland, Oregon.

Okay? Okay.

I went to one (1) pride event. It was a daytime dance party that started at three and ended at ten. I fluffed up my hair and put on earrings. I felt like a hot piece of ass for once in my life! I took a selfie for posterity, posted it to the internet as god intended, and was met with a basic stranger telling me I looked too thin. L-O-fucking-L! Please don’t comment on my body!!

accepting compliments only

Despite that light irritation, I managed to have fun.

Here’s a video that my girlfriend took of my best friend pretending to lick my ass through a chainlink fence while a small gaggle of us congratulate our new mom friend on her newfound momminess.

And here is one she took of me and my friend rabbit moonwalking away the second the sun fell.

Moving on:

If you’re feeling down, might I suggest getting really into women’s basketball? Portland has a new WNBA team, the Portland Fire. Actually, we’ve had the fire once before, from 2000-2002. The franchise disbanded in 2002 when the league changed ownership and the team unceremoniously folded due to its entirely unprofitable nature. GUESS FUCKIN’ WHAT!? It’s profitable now, bitch! We sell out our cute little 19,000 person arena regularly and I am at every single game because my girlfriend and I are season ticket holders— just like all the other girlfriends in Portland.

I am a big fan of lesbians and dyke culture in general. The WNBA is thick with lesbian representation from every single direction and I have found great joy in communing with my fellow lesbos without having to do small talk or stay up late. I am old! I am tired! When the games go ‘til 9:30 I’m like okay, y’all, let’s wrap this shit up and get to bed!

I’ve never been a sports fan™ before and it has given my weeks shape and meaning in a new way. I am earnest when I say that deeply liking something that requires me to leave my house regularly has really changed my outlook on existence. Sometimes we have games 3 times a WEEK! What am I going to do when the season ends?! That, my friends, is a September problem. For today, we ball. And by “we ball” I mean we watch ball. You wouldn’t believe how unathletic I am for being an endurance athlete!

More good news: samantha irby wrote an article called “How to Stay Married” and I fucking loved it.

I, myself, am a divorcee, so I don’t know much about sticking around in a marriage. BUT! I have a hunch that being fucking hilarious is the glue that keeps people interested in one another and this article made me laugh ‘til I cried.

An excerpt:

“MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS

i do not know what this bitch does at work. i don’t know where her job is located; i do know she is a social worker in the public schools and that she does not remove children from their homes, but other than that i don’t know shit else about her occupation or her education (i know she got a master’s degree from the university of chicago but other than that? who can say) or literally anything about her life outside of this house. conversely, she couldn’t begin to tell you how i write a joke or how i put my ideas together or when i’m sitting at my desk writing versus when i’m sitting at my desk anonymously scrolling gay romance subreddits, and she doesn’t read my work until it’s published. neither of us has any idea what the other one does all day, and this is the key to our marriage.”

My girlfriend is an engineer. She works for our fine city. She does stuff with ummmmm autoCAD? ARQGIS Pro? Visio? These are words I hear around our house, I asked her to spell them out for me so I wasn’t cursed with typos, I have no idea what they mean. What does she do with these fine programs? Not really sure. It’s best I don’t learn more….for the good of the relationship. Sam Irby says so!

Let’s talk about art.

In 2002 I was 18 years old. I was in my first stint of art school, before I dropped out. What I was doing, was mostly nothing. What Tammy Rae Carland was doing, was being a professor to my slacker ass and also making this series called “Lesbian Beds”.

It wasn’t luck that she happened to teach at the school I was going to, I went to that school for the two semesters that I did explicitly hoping to absorb some of her genius. Allegedly, I once took one of her small test prints out of the trash when her back was turned and also allegedly, I still have it to this day.

The actual prints of these beds are large and they have more detail than a digital production will do justice. I could get lost in the landscape of these lesbian beds! On a spiritual level, I feel that I dated that dyke with the star wars comforter and was convinced she was THIS CLOSE to purchasing something with heft and a duvet. Somewhere, she’s probably still out there with her Wizard of Oz pillow and she’s on her fifth wife. She is the one that got away; I will always love her.

This is an entirely fictional story, that dyke was probably 45 by the time I was 15. BUT THE BEDS! God, I love the beds.

—

The last thing I will say is that lately I have been making a lot of websites that I love for people that are the best. While most of my 2026 has been booked since last November, I have a couple of open web design slots in the fall and I want to fill them with more writers and artists and such. This is me saying I can take a couple more people before the year’s through and if you’re reading my newsletter I probably already like you!

See samples of my work here.

Apply to work with me here.

Here are some recent faves below: Waterbird Psychiatry, Karmela Padavic Callaghan (substack) and site, Kosmos Psychology, Ali Liebegott (substack) and site, t kira madden, Margeaux Feldman (substack) and site, Lev Schneidmann Counseling, Mia Hutchinson-Shaw.

Please excuse the quality of the screen shots! Go look at the sites themselves.

Until next time,

Luca