The tunes of the week:
- “Waaayyy up, I feel Blessed.” ~Blessed by Big Sean
- “I wanna apologize, I’m not really sorry.” ~Really Really by Kevin Gates
Well, it started with Starbucks.
No, I lied. It started with working on a weekend. I ❤ students, really I do. But the weekend is precious!! And hiking around the woods at 9am to 12pm had the only benefit of knowing I could eat lunch with no guilt and that I peaked over 10,000 steps before the day even hit the halfway mark.
By the time we tumbled out of the gorges, my feet were on mutiny, my body temp had crossed from medium-rare into well-done, and I was gagging for water.
Don’t look at me like that, I drank two bottles on the way down. But I am always dehydrated (water tastes gross if not refrigerated).
So I went to Starbucks to wet my beak. And as I’ve gotten into the habit of using my name, rather than my birth name, it raised some questions when I rejoined “the crew” with my name scrawled on the side of my plastic cup.
I never realized how observant people are about these things!
“What did they write?”
“Ohh, wait? What’s your name?”
“Gotcha, do you prefer-?”
“So I’ll call you that from now on! Changing your name in my phone right now.”
“What pronoun do you prefer?”
“Ahh, sorry, I’ll try to use the right one.”
Legit, I’m not all that bothered by whether I’m referred to as he, she, they, zhe, etc. etc.. I could care less either way. I’m more concerned by which name I’m called than the pronoun I’m referred to.
Ideally, I’d love to cause confusion. “Sir…ma’am?” Cuz I love androgynous. That’s what I covet, but with the way I are…that’s unlikely.
So, more masculine to balance out the curves- that’s the plan for now.
The conversation was a little…dunno, I felt like I was playing tennis. Ball my way, respond!…Another question, bat the answer that way!
Bam! bam! bam…!
And “I don’t know” isn’t an acceptable answer. “I don’t really mind” also not acceptable.
So, I’ve inked in some boxes that are more check-all-that-apply versus multiple choice.
Here’s to being “outted” at work. Because once one person knows…everyone knows.
I’m private -aside from this blog, lol. So I hadn’t really thought of sharing info on myself in other areas of life. Except for family, friends, and potential relationships, I don’t really see the reason to take out an ad in the paper, so to speak.
Ehhh such is life.
Whatever you say…Partner
Ahh, I don’t know if it’s an ego thing, but I’ve got a strong urge to acquire a “partner”.
It could be a dog, a guy, a girl, a cat, a garter snake… doesn’t really matter to me. Just something that I can stamp as MINE.
I imprint on you so you can imprint on me.
Maybe this is blow-back from being forever single. Or thus far alone. *Shrug…
When I hit legal age for drinking, I had moved to a new place with 2 roommates. And, after determining that the best way to bond would be to slam some back, the three of us + 1 friend headed to the local bar.
That was the first time I drank alcohol. And… it was great!
After the bar closed, we schlepped home and continued drinking after stopping at the liquor store for vodka and orange juice. We started playing a drinking game with cards, and I ended up winning as every time I had to drink, everyone else had to drink.
“I OWN you!!! I Fucking own you bitch!!!” I remember screaming with glee at my male roommate who was stuck drinking glass after glass of screwdrivers. That was a rush of absolute power… it was great!!!
Yeaaaahhh, I still remember his eyes swimming behind his glasses, drinking it down -1 glass, 2 glasses, then falling backwards to the floor with a giggle and a croak of “nooo moooreee!!!”
MINE. I did that.
Of course, it was a momentary thing. Over too fast.
Ironically, it was after that setting that I started gravitating towards my female roommate. Invariably after a few beers, or a couple of glasses or several shots, I found myself staring at her. Wanting to touch her. Wondering if she was a soft as she looked.
One time her knees were cold (winter) and the heat wasn’t kicking in. I have fucking ridiculously warm hands (and a cold heart? Dunno) at all times, so I was holding her knees with both hands, trying to warm them up -she was cooold but that didn’t dissuade me from wondering if… maybe… she wouldn’t mind if I held her.
I didn’t, of course. She had a boyfriend, and I didn’t even understand what the fuck these thoughts had to do with anything. Too busy trying to pass classes to even realize what I was thinking at the time -or the ramifications and what that meant for me.
I can be very oblivious of things relating to myself.
But, I do recognize that when I drink, I get bolder. I take more risks -like dancing in front of people, leaning a tad to close when talking to someone, and wondering what that chick tastes like…
Cherries & Gin. I can almost taste it…
Bahhh!!! Really, I need to figure out the whole dating thing before I combust -or do something stupid.
Hence why I haven’t been drinking much lately.
And, I wonder if I’m the only person who’d make dating fucking complicated. Because I’m a bundle of complications – hospitals dread when I arrive, that’s how complicated I can make things (lol, get it?).
Mehh, but yeah. Maybe bitch is the wrong word, considering it’s connotation in society today. Maybe the word is partner?
Partner… can you imagine? It’s always dope to have someone, and not be alone.
Speaking of Alone…
So, in resolution to the vomit of love-sick posts I’ve been writing lately…
After making myself physically ill for 2 months, I finally got my courage together and texted for a meet. We grabbed coffee, and made small talk, as I tried to keep my chest from exploding. I was fine with delaying a bit, so we flitted from topic to topic.
Until he said “….I was talking with my girlfriend…”
Uhhhh-huh. Fuck me. Story of my life.
But wait, I thought to myself. Let me make sure that he means what I think he means -though I’m pretty sure he said he didn’t have a girl…
Turns out, it’s a recent thing. They connected within a few weeks ago and so far, they’re making a go of it.
Thank HADES I didn’t confess sooner. That would have been embarrassing!!!
“So what does she do?” I asked, barely hearing his response as he told me how awesome she is. They do make a great match, I reflected.
Ironically, I didn’t feel heartbroken about it. Believe me, I know the difference, and this was more relief mixed with indifference.
Maybe this crush wasn’t really real. Who knows?
I’m just glad that 1) didn’t make a fool of myself and 2) I get to keep an awesome friendship intact, no complications included.