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The Bachelor

January 4, 2011

Usually when someone says that something I did was ‘sexy’, I either will passionately regret it in the morning or assume the opposite in the vein of attempted sarcastic humor.

So you can imagine that tonight, when some guy at ultimate said that my catch of the frisbee was, quote, “…the sexiest thing I’ve seen in a while”, I was slightly taken aback. Now I understand that straight men have a weird threshold for triggers of such an illicit response, and that while they get nothing from it, sports and lesbians really rev them up. But it was the first time, and I really mean first time ever, even before and after coming out I think, that I’d been called ‘sexy’ by a straight guy (who I assume knows of my status) out in public. So my puzzlement into this is not without warrant.

Now I hope my two readers have the faith in me to know I didn’t and still don’t think his joking praise was anything personal at all. Though my posts sometimes ebb into melodrama, this is not my Girl Tech Password Journal. Only my sisters can read that.

So I know he meant nothing by it, so what’s the confusion? Well, one part of me will always be overly-analytical of situations like these. Why did he do it? Does he know? If he didn’t, would he have still done it anyways? I guess I know that my natural reaction to strangers is that they naturally don’t like me, regardless of sex or orientation or anything, so I get unnecessarily paranoid of blatant acts of inclusion by people, and especially guys, that I have just met. I’m sure there’s some huge word that could describe that horribly long run-on sentence more concisely.

But it seems, regardless of anything else (and almost paradoxically if you think about it), I earned a straight man’s approval tonight, not through my wizard  stick length, but by my ability to play catcher.

So that’s life on the straight front. Here’s Rick with some gay news.

[First of all, I’d like to ask who the hell decided Rick and Steve were stereotypical gay names? I have yet to meet either, yet I have met more Michaels and Tylers than I care to count.]

Anyways, contrary to all advice and my own logic, I have started up the hunt once again. [*EDIT* I hate using the word hunt. If not for the imagery of hard work and challenge, I’d change it. I’MNOTAPREDATOR] Since it for some reason is impossible to meet people in middle America in real life, I turn to the dark and dangerous roads of the Internet. However, I like to think of this means as Knockturn Alley: Though scary and potentially harmful, it still has some good aspects to it, like when Hagrid bought the flesh-eating slug repellant. So I re-sign in, and the trouble starts…

Never before through this means of meeting people have I recognized anyone. This latest bout found me cyber face-to-face with at least four guys from the college! Thankfully, my picture obscures most of my face, so I’m holding onto the shred of hope that no one recognizes me. The thing about online meeting centers is that while they seem necessary, I myself, at least, am embarrassed that I use it. I don’t know, the idea of it all seems so forced and disaster centric. So I wish to avoid the drama that seeps faster than the cold of Dementors[I’ve been reading lots of HP, forgive me] while I try to turn things around and just meet people for a change (remember that bit about regret?). The only obstacle I think I’ll face is the pressure from other guys using this technology. There are guys out there who use it only for sex cruising purposes. Hell, when they tell me I’m sexy I don’t think twice about it. Mostly because they are old and real predators that I want nothing to do with. Besides them bothering me, I think 2011 has some great potential and all I need to do is let it be and not mess it up.

And that’s the way it is.

So my hetero relations may be brightening beyond clouds of confusion, and my gay relations are up in the air. Maybe I’m just the bachelor type. Who knows, maybe I’ll get the privilege to be on a competition show where aspiring female reality stars will fall in love with me in 2.5 and obsess over me for several weeks until I’m forced to marry one!

This is my BBC Three's "Snog, Marry, Avoid?" Make-Under look

Also: I realized this morning (I suppose now yesterday morning) that break ends and I leave for college this weekend. Talk about scary surprises.

And so it goes,


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