the old freak flag

It’s times like these that I wish I was my married-with-children sister, a maker of muffins or perhaps an elementary-school nurse. It’s not that I’m not proud of my book [The Straight Girl’s Guide to Sleeping with Chicks], or that I’ve become un-enamored with the path I’ve chosen — it’s just that every once in a while, lugging the old freak flag around gets a bit overwhelming. And although I was pretty much wrapped in the flag at birth, this whole sex thing has me flying it at full mast all the time.