Well, that’s a loaded question. Firstly, you’d be operating under the assumption that you had the power to do something that, well, someone is already born with. Awfully egotistical (or as I like to call it egotesticle.) Secondly, you have to realize that if she were to go lesbian after you, you wouldn’t be able to partake. You realize that, right? Not even a peek.

Although, about 98% of the time after a bad break-up the thought enters a woman’s mind, “I never want to see another man again, could I play for the other team?” Much like when a woman loses her job and thinks to herself, “I could always become an hooker, you know, just till I find another job.” Both thoughts are fleeting but there nonetheless.

Now, I’m no man-hater by any means. But these days if one were to come within 15 feet of me I may be inclined to cause bodily harm, at the very least a drink in the face.

Then the other day, perhaps sensing my dislike in the male species, the nice folks at Showtime sent me Season 4 of The L Word to watch. I’ve never seen this show before since I don’t have a subscription to Showtime. But I was ready to get into all the girl-on-girl drama, having been through a bit too much of the boy-on-girl drama lately. I got sucked in immediately. I doubt I’ll be switching jerseys anytime soon, but I was struck by the fact that the myth about two woman hooking up would somehow be able to better understand each other just wasn’t the case. Their relationships are just as fucked up and confusing as a hetero couple. Just because the female bond is there doesn’t mean that they will instantly have insight into each other and everything will just flow and be natural.

This of course got me thinking. Penis/Vagina, Vagina/Vagina, Penis/Penis…however you put it, none of that matters. Relationships require a common ground. Why do we assume that members of the same sex will automatically understand each other? Sharing a similar gender experience does not qualify us as an expert into another person’s psyche, only better at understanding each other anatomically. Inversely hating men or blaming his “masculine” qualities for the failure of the relationship or an inability to comprehend him is useless.

So, it’s not fair for me to say that I don’t want a man to come within 15 feet of me. Just not a man like the last one.

Back to lesbians. So like I said, I totally got sucked into the show. I watched all six episodes they sent me back-to-back. All of these women are smoking hot. Even the clubs they go to are filled with equally hot women, all making out and shit, not one ugly butch to be found nor a fat one. But let’s just suspend our disbelief for the moment and assume that this is a realistic portrayal. This show is definitely ranked up there as a guilty pleasure, like Melrose Place but without so many penises. And sometimes a penis-free zone ain’t such a bad thing. I can appreciate some female eye-candy and super-dramatic plots. The part I have a hard time with is that it lacks consequences. For example, when one of them crashes a car on drug-induced rage she just gets up and walks away, or another one kidnaps the baby she had with her ex-girlfriend and when she returns they decide on joint custody. Our prisons would be empty if that were the way things were handled. Or what about the one that’s a Dean of a university that sleeps with one of her students, disciplinary action? No.

Maybe there’s something about being a lesbian that I don’t know about that shields you from consequences, like super hero powers? That would be so cool. I want super hero powers. Is that what taking the cock does to us straight girls? Takes away our super hero powers. Damn, why didn’t someone tell me?

Then my contact at Showtime emailed me to tell me about an event they were doing on Second Life. They set up a place that looked like the Planet (the bar all the girls go to on the show.) Being the ever so curious type I checked it out. It was interesting. I was basically the straight girl sitting in the corner not talking to anyone (much like I’d probably be in real life). I guess I could never try out the lesbian thing because the idea of hitting on women is far more daunting than hitting on men. Because at least if you get rejected by a man you can blame it on his “masculine” qualities, you know, like he’s a dog.

So, if you want to check out the show the next episode is airing on Showtime Sunday at 10pm.

I LOVE TO SHOP FOR CHEAP.

The clearance rack is my favorite part of any store.

My favorite phrase? “50% off the already reduced redline price” (Urban Outfitters is the BEST about this)

It doesn’t matter the store or what it sells. If stuff is on sale for cheap, I will buy it. I am a compulsive shopper when it comes to items $20 or less. I can spend hours wandering around TJ Maxx or Century 21 picking up scarves and hats and shoes and socks and tank tops and pants, none of which I will probably ever wear. But everytime I see the purple pinstripe onesie that my boobs spill out of or the one-sleeved shoulder shirt with a glittery city skyline on the front, I’ll remember that I got both of them for $2.99 and my heart will lift with joy.

But it’s a new year. A new Brandy. And it’s time to make some changes. We redecorated my apartment this weekend and my new space is giving me a new lease on life. As I was cleaning this weekend I realized that I have way too much stuff. My room is bursting with God’s spectrum of Old Navy flip flops, purses and clutches I haven’t carried in three years, bras I got at the semi-annual sale my junior year of college, sneakers in every color imaginable, and who knows what else. And each piece I probably snagged for less that $10 each.

It’s hard for me to let go of things. I grew up selfish. My brother and I always had our OWN things–we never had to share. I hate giving things away. I hate throwing things away. I love all my stuff no matter how impractical. I know I don’t need my white furry hat….but I LOVE it.

But, I’m not 14 anymore. And while it’s okay for me to still love bright colors and fun hats, it’s not okay that my bedroom looks like a rainbow exploded when you open the door.

So I’m going on a shopping fast. No matter how great the sale sign looks, I will not buy it. I don’t care if I find a pair of Manolo Blahniks for $15 at Filene’s Basement, or a pair of True Religions for $10 at Macys–I am not shopping for ONE WHOLE MONTH. i have too much stuff. And even if I throw away half of it, it’s still enough to fill my own two-bedroom.

You heard it heard first. Brandy Crawford is going on a shopping fast.