So here’s the lament of my life as of late. There have been several instances as of late that, as I considered them whilst amidst the moment or afterwards, made me feel… gay.
See I ‘m not saying I am, am considering or would consider becoming homosexual. But sometimes I just feel like I’m demasculated to the point I might as well be gay, or at least a enuch. At least that’s a funny word. For example, I was chatting with my friend’s girlfriend at their apartment while he was working. First off, I’m still wary he actually does care despite his voicing of the negative. Second of all, I find myself sitting on a couch at one end, facing her at the other end with both of us tucked into our own blankets. And talked forever. Guys don’t often: a) employ eye contact, esp. on touchier issues; b) use pastel blankets while talking; c) talk forever; d) with someone’s girl. Some of these are moot issues, but it’s a new realm of experience for me and kinda creepy. I have no sexual intention, which I almost wish I did so I wouldn’t be thinking how gay I feel.
And again tonight I was at my metals1 art class which I mistakenly believed involved large-scale blacksmith work. No- oh no- this is a jewelry class involving people looking to make jewelry. So mostly women. First off all, I’m not that confidant with my visual expression of art. I mean, I can give a pretty good self-expression using any stringed instrument. Heck, give me a baseball bat and a keg (good initiative, Slipknot) and I could probably express myself articulately. This visual art stuff though is not my area of confidence. Secondly it’s jewelry for crying out loud. We’re not even allowed to make sharp pointy objects if we wanted. So tonght we did a evaluation where everyone but the artist discusses said artist’s piece. So there’s all this talking about how the piece feels, use of negative space and all this artsy-fartsy stuff. And all I’m thinking is: I’m in a jewelry class surrounded by forties-something women discussing feeling-based art analysis. Combined with the whole confidence thing, I felt gay. I guess my definition of gay is a foray into feelings unknown.
Along these same lines: I saw kid at school after our spring break ended this week. I joked with him about how his shaved head and goatee combo was a good prison look. And then, because I tried and failed to stop myself, joked with him by saying “yeah, i’d do you.” had to have been there i guess. it really was funny.
anyways, i’m pretty sure i haven’t said anything i really wanted to. just remember: homosexuals are gay. and here’s a good cleavage joke. and here’s a story of a chick biker who rides her motorcycle in the dead zone around Chernobyl, replete w/ pics. just found it tonight and is pretty interesting.
random!