A week in the life....

So last week, my grandparents went out of town. Well they have a pregnant horse that needs to be fed very regularly and I started off last week without a car so I had to ride my bike about 3 miles roundtrip to get there from the bus. That wouldn't have been a problem except that I haven't ridden my bicycle seriously for about three years. Needless to say, I'm very out of shape...VERY. Haha...I seriously think I couldn't breathe for about thirty minutes after I got there. But I fed the horses, and went up to tend to my grandparent's new kitten, Shorty, who curled up on my lap while we both slept for quite some time. Well, then I went back over to feed and trekked off the school (after taking a shower of course). That was a fun adventure that I had to repeat the following day until Friday, when I discovered that my license had not been suspended, but that it will be if I don't pay my ticket soon. Arg. So this week I get to drive out there which is certainly more accessible by motor vehicle than by cycling—although it would be healthy for this fat ass to be shocked into getting back into shape....which has been fairly neglected for the past month or so.

Which leads me to my next topic of transgression. I have been feeling so ugly for the past week or so. It usually happens when I hit a low from depression. I feel fat and sluggish. I'm not eating healthily at all, and I haven't done yoga for quite some time. I went to a gay bar a couple Wednesdays ago and I got no love—except by a guy who was hugging everyone. So, here I am, my stout, stocky 180 pounds of me, surrounded by (some healthy some not) thinner men who look fantastic. I show up to the bar with a dyke friend of mine, just because we wanted to hang out and sell raffle tickets for SMYRC. I am not looking hot. Here's my look from head to toe: I had on my off-white Old Navy baseball cap, which I have gracelessly distressed; an ill-fitting bright blue sweater that is a really good color, but it's made from really cheap cotton and stretches out awkwardly by the end of the day; I have on my lazy, I'm-feeling-fat jeans that actually make my butt look decent; and my shoes are my two-year-old Nikes that are a little too loved. And the best part is that I didn't shower that day. Well I had a couple guys flirt with me before the drag show started and all the hot guys showed up. (BTW I can't stand drag; it's just not my thing.) So yeah, that little story put a big damper on my second gay bar experience, proving yet again that I just don't fit in with the "scene" in Portland, which is my main reason for disliking P-town to begin with. It's almost as if I need to find a man and then move back here, but what would the point of the be? I know living in places like Seattle and New York are more expensive, but for me it's worth it if I know I can find something do to at any time, day or night.

All right enough mulling, I have to get to class and then later tonight I have to pound out at least two pages for my term paper in art history—which is due Thursday. I have a stack of books about ten inches high at home with research for the Duomo of Florence Cathedral by Fillipo Brunelleschi. It is said to mark the beginning of the Renaissance; it was a controversial design that ultimately ended up changing the face of art and architecture forever. We still define many of our designs today with Renaissance art and architecture. Now to put that in a paper....wish me luck!

Coming up and out...without meaning to

I was thirteen years old. I was becoming aware of my sexuality slowly before, but it started to pick up as middle school progressed. I started to look at pictures of shirtless men—I even had a little collection of pictures cut from magazines. I also wrote little erotic stories about experiences with other men. I had dreams about men.

I didn’t know it was considered wrong by anyone at the time…until my stepmom found a story I had written. I don’t remember what it was about, but it was fairly explicit. I got home from school one day, and my parents called me down to their bedroom. This was what happened if ever any of us children were in trouble. I wondered what I had done, but it seemed like something new every week. I walked timidly into their room, not knowing what to expect. There, sitting on their dresser was the story I had left on my night stand. My stepmom (who later turned out to be crazy) looked at me with utter disdain; my dad looked ashamed and quiet like he did when he was especially angry about something. They asked me about the story, which included some explicit sexual acts. I didn’t know what to say since I was utterly shocked that there was a problem with what I had written. I just had to deny having such feelings or desires and say that it was something that I maybe wanted to try but wouldn’t ever go through with it.

I think this experience resulted in sexual trauma and caused me to shove my sexuality so deep inside that I denied it until very recently. Living with right-wing conservatives parents put me so deep in the closet that it caused much trauma to pull it out nearly ten years later. Teens need a healthy outlet, and living in a small town in Oregon did not help that. My community was very antigay, and I was always teased for being a “fag” or gay. I didn’t know what that was; I just knew that I liked boys. While I was closeted, I developed homophobic attitudes based on my parents’ attitudes. The very idea of being gay scared me to the point of developing a hatred of other gays. But gay guys at school fascinated me. It took a long time to accept who I was. I had to come to terms with my Christian beliefs, and it took a few years to come out to myself, then to select others, and then to everyone.

Coming out after repressing one’s homo/bisexuality is a long process. Experiencing trauma as a young teen, whether from peers or important adults, causes a lot of pain attached to whatever one was teased about or punished for. Getting over that is key to any person why wants to come out as LGBTQ. More and more youth are getting brave enough to come out to their loved ones, sometimes to great pain. But in the end, coming out is much healthier than repressing it for your whole life. From one previously closeted homo: don’t put it off; I’m the happiest I’ve been since my younger years.

slap me now

Okay, bitches, you need to slap this homo!!!!! I am having thoughts of wearing matching sweaters with Cooper! OMG I am so gay. Slap me now, slap me NAO!!!!! I won't do it...I won't do it....I won't do it!

Haha. I'm wired and I'm going to bed. I'll tell my adventures of going to classes though, which are Intro to Linguistics and History of Western Art (Romanesque to Rococo). Happy joy...not so much. Linguistics is going to be fun because it's a science and I love science. Art history is going to be hell. Well, I can't say that for sure. The professor is this meek older woman with silver hair and wears nondescript glasses who seems nice enough. The only problem is that she is so soft spoken and the PA system in the classroom doesn't work well (when do they ever, really?). So I'm going to have to make an effort to sit in front, which can't offend anyone since I'm so short...Oh and in that class there's this guy who came in late and sat in front of me with the best shoulders. Maybe I'm just so desperate that any guy, gay or straight, is making me horny. It actually took some effort to resist the urge to reach out and grab him. But somethin' tells me he wouldn't have taken too kaindlay to that. (I'm tired; forgive me.) I have to get out this week. I can't go back to my therapist on Friday without having made an effort to be social. Ugh why does the Portland gay scene have to be about drinking and drinking only. Maybe I'll join the Portland Gay Men's Chorus. I love singing and I need a creative outlet since I'm not taking a creative class this term....wow what a tangent. Fuckin' streams of consciousness...

And tomorrow is just going to repeat Monday. How boring is that? With a new puppy, it can't be all that bad. At least I can go jogging with the pup and tucker him out so he can sleep through the night again. Yay he slept all night last night. Poor pup. Today I was going to walk to the bank, but it was rainy and cold and windy. Coop was shivering because he's so thin from his last owners. (That's why I was thinking of getting matching argyle sweaters for us.) But needless to say, I got a quarter of a mile from home and decided that I couldn't make him walk the two miles or so in the cold and wet, all while being freaked out by the roaring four-wheel drives in Oak Grove...but that's another issue altogether. I think we're taking him kennel shopping tomorrow night at PetSmart or PetCo. There's this really nice one there that's collapsible. But then there's this one at Target that's half the price and looks really similar. Gots to shop around though, especially since I have a ton of books to buy and only $150 bucks to get $300 or so of them...Thank God for the library.

Here's to tomorrow.

missed opportunity

Before I get totally drunk, I just have to kick myself for missing out on a really cute guy for NYE. Ugh. I was at Powell's in the gay fiction section, and lo and behold there is this super hot guy there. We both sorta just stood there dumbly, "browsing" the books. I went downstairs to check out, and I decided I'd write down my number to give to him. I took it upstairs with all intent on giving it to him, he even seemed like he was waiting for me...but I chickened out!!!! Sigh. Oh my god, I can't believe I missed out on a fun night and maybe more.

Now to go drink amaretto sours till my head spins. Happy New Year AGAIN!!!!!!!


Cheers

squeeeeEEeeeeze!

I put on a pair of 32-inch waist jeans today--more like squeezed into them--but they actually buttoned and zipped up. Wow. I'm losing inches!! And I've lost about 3 pounds over the past week. 180ish is still a bit to heavy for my frame. Ciao for now...

Happy New Year!!!!