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Sunday, February 20, 2011

Tequila Breath

I smell like tequila this morning. Went to a party after house hunting all day and getting a couple offers for apartments. It's nice to walk into a party and be greeted by a bunch of bear hugs after weeks of being anti-social for schoolwork's sake. It's nice to feel young and wild still, watching the subtle dramas unfold as the fridge empties. It's nice to slow dance in a living room filled with conversations while the pop mixes stream endlessly from Ipod after Ipod. It's fun to finally let a little loose in Silverlake while Laurel Canyon sleeps as usual.

It's been raining here. Cats and Dogs fall from a full-moon sky bright and enabling. I hear the weather in Seattle has been lovely. I am looking forward to visiting my beloved home city for a couple of days at the beginning of April, perhaps, to see Glasses in the Rocky Horror Picture Show, and my parents, and take my little bicycle back to LaLa with me on the Amtrak. It will be so romantic!

I am moving in with a cute kid named Carey. We met at a lesbo dance night in West Hollywood the day after he moved here from SF. As the girls doused themselves in booze and jiggled about the bar surfaces at Truckstoppin' those few months ago, we made a bunch of eye contact on the dance floor, knowing that our friendship was destiny. However, yesterday he told me that I'm actually just one of those "staring people" that stares a whole hell of a lot. He and his adorbs girlfriend told me that it seems like I'm thinking sexual things even when I may not. So there's that. one has ever told me that before. AND apparently it's obvious I'm a gay. Girls at school assume my partner is a "she" automatically, or at least they did the other day. So now I'm an obviously gay stare-er. This brings up a funny conflict for me. On one hand, I really like the idea of people thinking I make a lot of eye contact, and that them perceiving me as a perv doesn't sway their interest in me as a friend. But on the other hand, I just really don't want babes--I mean girls--WOMEN--to think "Oh, God, that Lesbian over there keeps looking at me in a sexual way, " and getting scared or feeling awkward. I feel like one of the main reasons it took me so long to come out is because I just didn't want to make my girly girlfriends all uncomfortable. What if they don't want me to come to their sleepovers anymore? But I digress.

1 comment:

  1. You couldn't make us uncomfortable if you tried, my little Wrenlette.