I eloped to New Zealand with my senior prom date and we have three kids.

I dropped out of college my freshman year to move to Santa Fe with my girlfriend and cut off all my hair. Subsequently, I have broken up with her, come out to my parents, and last I heard she was living in Utah. I'm still in Santa Fe.

I didn't miscarry and I have a kid named Rebecca Jane who gets checked in at WonderCamp on my way to work at a small company, where no one really knows what I do, but the boss is the father, so it doesn't really matter what I do. Rebecca Jane's hair is pretty red, like mine was at that age.

I moved to Albany with someone on the spur of the moment and we have skylights, big happy egos and a groovy Mexican place around the corner. It gets too cold in the winters for me, but I like lying around the park with him in summer. He wants a dog; I rant about commitment and drool.

I'm a guy.

I'm a dancer with the Martha Graham B company and every day is about sex and sacrifice and explaining the history of her life and her early solos at college dance departments. Because of what I do, what I look like, people assume, as they do in this life, that I must be some sort of stunning porn movie fuck. But I'm a lot stranger than that, built only for certain people. I have bruises on my hips.

I teach.

I am a classics major, starting my PhD and dating an English literature professor of indeterminate gender.

I live in Vermont where I write and drive a beat up old truck with a ladder in back just for effect. I have a son named Julien, who doesn't look at all like I expected.

I play guitar, teach, and ocassionally tour with a musical hero of mine. He thinks I'm hysterical and a bit peculiar and sometimes we sit up all night and talk, theorizing about gossip. In this universe, I like coffee.

I work at Microsoft and married a friend in Seattle who wants me to quit so I can finish my book. I refuse, feeling that my continuing dedication to tech support makes me look more independent. But since I never become a famous author in this world, no one is looking.

I'm successful on the New York poetry scene, and do a lot of readings. I fuck a lot of guys, wear cat eye glasses and don't care about either.

I work in a Broadway chorus understudying for compulsively healthy people. Eventually I become a single mom to a blond curly haired daughter who takes tap and swimming lessons from age 3 on.

I am a stripper whose friends are jealous 'cause I make more money in less time than them, when the truth is I just like the lack of paperwork.

I am a lawyer.

Racheline Maltese has written Female Force in the September, 1996 Grrowl!, and I Am A Woman in the premiere issue of Grrowl!