the Double-Edged Sword

today was tooooo fuuuuny. I just met with my professor--the one with whom I've been having odd issues—the latest one being contesting a grade on a paper at the departmental level. My conversations with administrators apparently got him a serious reprimand.

As a pre-emption to any further funny business, I finished my last assignment several days early and was meeting with him to hand back a revision of it. But I also asked for suggestions on how to be a better student.

As soon as I finished asking the question, he ducked his head--I think he found it both funny and aggrivating. He was real earnest throughout most of the conversation. He was also majorily pissed as I had challenged him both in and out of class.

Overall, he was rather gentle though in his criticism. I thought he was rather irrational in some of his anger. It made no sense regarding the particular assignment we were discussing. He thought I implied that I thought he was too stupid to understand my paper. I said I just thought that he was unwilling, not unable. He repeated several times that he did not question my intelligence. I found those statements amusing. Academics find intelligence compliments impossible to dole out. He had at first tried to invalidate my thesis on grounds he now admitted as unfair.

Still, he clung to his original decision about my paper. He started quoting some of our e-mail exchanges to prove his points. I contested his reasoning. He got even more angry and said that he always thought I had to have a comeback. He got REALLY pissed off. He seemed rather nervous and angry at the same time. He fidgeted with his hands a good bit during the conversation and his hands did not seem completely steady. I've noticed that teachers when they get really nervous have a hard time keeping their hands still.

I on the other hand was placid most of the time. My eyes were open wide and I tried to look as receptive as possible. We stared each other down several times. I did so with no aggression.

I gave an explanation to most of his questions. He did not really buy it although I thought that a part of him wanted to badly.

He said that he had no idea what my psychological motivations could be behind all my actions. So he verbalized that a separate agenda drove this whole situation---that I thought was hilarity number one.

I then matched my explanation to all of my actions—a desire to learn and to make sure that my work was judged without bias. I mentioned other instances where I had been penalized for not looking out for this latter ahead of time. I also said that I did not speak up for its sheer sake but because I valued forthrightness.

He ultimately--in his anger—nearly yelled that I should just take his word at face value because he is the professor regardless of the context. That was the centerpiece of his argument and hilarity number two. At that point, I fully understood just how uneasy he felt around me. My “challenges” to him seem to actually threaten him.

From the moment he first saw me in class, to our first chat outside of class, to pretty much every meeting henceforth—I saw in him a sense of tremendous admiration for me accompanied by a sort of fear in him which included the dread that I might become privy to these feelings. He is an incredibly--and I emphasize--incredibly sensitive man.

However, many times in class he expressed uneasiness about his masculinity and made obvious comments in class and in conversation that reflected this. I suspect authority is a serious component of this issue.

Oddly enough he brought attention to my multiple requests to meet with him for office hours. I thought the observation was very odd. It matched however his incredibly suspicious look he gave me each time I tried to schedule these meetings. I found his reactions altogether weird because they were always on campus and at public locations.

At one point, he looked into my eyes intensely--but with only one eye--a half turned look I interpreted as defensiveness. He tried to get past my apparently serene demeanor and then suddenly his look turned jocular. As it did so, he searched to see if I would reciprocate.

The issue at stake was my sexuality. I felt that he wanted to shame it somehow yet feared giving himself away if he tried too hard to point it out. I did not react to his elicitation. I think in retrospect that perhaps he didn’t mean to shame but instead to covertly and vicariously participate in it by acknowledging the sexual tension. However, the covert part I took as a desire to shame. Why not just be fucken explicit?

In class, I remember, one time one of the female students made a very pointed joke at his sexuality. She cracked the joke while in a small group conversation. When she hit the punch-line, he immediately dropped his face and just as quickly shot me a very nervous and fearful look. All I could think at that moment was, Who does he think he’s fooling other than just himself?

After his outburst, I apologized for any wrong actions and consequent antagonization. He took some of that to heart. We started to part ways but he felt that something must have been missing because he did not seem to be able to leave. I grabbed my bag but he kept trying to move the conversation forward. I put my water away and still he kept trying to add a point but only repeated "well, then… well, then… well, then".

I stood up, and so did he. He mentioned that I was done with school. I told him my plans and he said that they were interesting. He seemed very confused. He did not know what to do or say.

Finally, I just extended my hand. We exchanged hand-shakes, but as we did, he turned his body to one side. Suddenly, his gaurd came down and some of his confusion turned to openness and perhaps even some admiration—again. I think he turned to one side out of defense.

I was happy with the way the meeting went and I smiled. But my smile came out differently than I had expected--all these feelings of knowing all these issues within him came to the surface and suffused my smile and then my eyes twinkled with this latent knowledge. I quickly recognized the smile--I had been able most clearly to recognize it from my Billy Budd during the Fall semester.

The professor’s mouth slightly dropped open in shock as he did not expect this reaction from me. It was perhaps the first time I had broken out of the naïve student act and actually decided to hint that I knew what was up. I immediately broke away and walked.

Analysis

I found out midway through the course that he has a girlfriend who also works at school. Several odd variables pervade their relationship however and might serve to question the validity of their bond. Of course, that can be said for many relationships. No doubt however his sexuality was complicated.

Having someone be attracted to me often works to my benefit. I have landed jobs, gotten phat free dinners, and been exposed to some awesome sectors of society. At the same time, I've gotten fired, cheated, denied service, and back-stabbed by good&best friends all for the same fucken reason.

Often I used to think that having someone be attracted to me could only be a positive occurence. EEEEGAAAAAHD was I wrong! This belief assumes that the other person finds their attraction towards me desireable. What the hell happens when someone hates, detests, finds contemptible, abhors that attraction??? My answer is that the situation goes nuclear--its a game as to who will strike first. Will they find a way to get at me for it or will I misinterpret the whole situation and spite them first?

I don't think this professor wanted to have this attraction. It disgruntled his paradigm of himself. I had the same thing happen with the boss with whom I fell in love. He had a life he loved and it all centered around his heterosexuality. I would not have believed it had I not heard it from the horse's mouth. He found my company as arousing as I found his---but it did not eliminate the fact that his other life depended on him denying those desires.

Whether its for internally inconsistent reasons, or whether as a result of previous commitments---attraction can be the biggest bitch.

Growing Up? : Its not going to be like this always

The occasion goes back to way in the day before I had been even half way out of the closet. I was working out per usual at the university gym right about to begin a set of lat-pull downs. As I grab and hang by the bar to stretch my back out, this very tall, very blonde guy stands right in front of the machine and me. I am noticeably perturbed by the proximity but resolved to ignore it. Just as I was tuning him out and beginning to heave the weight, blondie busts into a funny chest stretch whereby he juts his pecs, neck, and face forward with a simultaneous smile right at me. Again, I am noticeably perturbed but determined to begin and end my fucken set.

He stares right at me with a big grin I couldn’t decipher as either silly or suggestive, or both. I suppose the most apt term would be GAY. Now I really couldn’t and wasn’t going to hide my impatience. As I was heaving the weight, I made it clear that I wasn’t just frowning because of the weight, but because his big ass fucken grin was right in my line of vision. As soon as I felt that I had communicated the sentiment, I fully cleared him from my awareness.

He eventually left and looked a bit confused. I guess I had only thought I was not in the closet. I saw him around a good more later but he kept his distance, preferring to eye me from afar.

As with most universities, parking is a bitch—I’m just glad the concept here exists. Through trial error and exploration however, I found a lot few know about which is not intended for us but which lies adjacent to a path way that leads ultimately to where most of my classes are held. Lucky for me, this pathway is through a series of air-conditioned and heated buildings making the lot one of my year-round destinations. Though long, it is comfortable.

One morning while doing my speed-walking shuffle, I notice a very tall, very blonde guy coming my way staring in my direction with a sly grin. As I look in his direction he moves his head slightly so as not to stare at me directly. He held that same grin.

OH SHIT—I sort of thought to myself, he’s a doctor. There he was going from one building to another heading towards the med-school. I shrugged it off and gave it little thought henceforth.

After “coming” out, I eventually made it to some of the queer clubs in the city. It was hard to start going at first. I didn’t like that someone could get my name and through the school social network know a great deal about me. Still, I went and as I was standing by myself sipping a drink and talking with some random dude, I see this very tall, very blonde guy move in my direction. I notice it out of the corner of my eye. I swear I’ve started to grow eyes on the back of my neck.

He eventually comes and stands again, right in front of me, except this time he’s with this shorter dark-haired guy. He just gawks at me. Doesn’t stare or glare. He gawks. His jaw opened, he turns his head and body and looks at the dark short guy and then looks back at me.

I don’t know how the fuck I managed to ignore it, but he then just gawked at me again, and then turned and left. I didn’t know what to do, and the guy in front of me tried to ignore the whole scenario when he realized I was going to do so.

What the hell??? Didn’t he know I was gay when he came up to me at the gym??? Why did he have that dumbfounded, incredulous look on his face?

A couple days ago, I was working out at a different gym in the university. It is less frequented and suits certain workouts better. He walks in and again eyes me from afar yet without an attempt at hiding it. At this point, I must say my curiosity is piqued. He’s obviously intelligent in some regard, and I gather that unless the med school bears his last name that he must have social graces. In which case, I wonder—what the hell is up with him? Do I remind him of someone? Has he mistaken me for a long-lost best friend who he thinks will not talk to him?

I disregarded our previous encounters and just moved through my workout. The first time we passed by each other I didn’t avert my eyes and just passed by normally. He got nervous when he realized I would do so. As I started to pass him his face followed me and as I turned to look at him he got visibly very nervous, which freaked me out and so I looked away. Gawd I’m retarded. I should have said something long ago. I thought he would just quit.

He was tall and muscular but wasn’t my type. He was too blonde and while fit and buff, his body wasn’t doing it for me. His eyes are also on the grey side and not really that intense, jewel-like blue.

He started working on my machine. Okay, now I’ll talk I thought to myself and moved to ask if I could work in with him. He stared at me as I approached, not in the same way as before but with almost fear. At this point I was habituated to the intense and incomprehensible looks. So I just smiled and asked. He moved away as he looked at me, and without ever smiling just nodded while looking right into my eyes. I thought he would have said something, and although I had resigned myself to ignore his weirdness, I somehow ended up mimicking his non-verbal response.

I finished my set. Just when I thought I would be up for talking to him, this other guy comes up to me and starts conversation about the exercise I was just doing. The guy knew a lot about kinesthetics and so we ended up conversing for a while and then blondie was gone.

Tonight, I’m grocery shopping and on the phone. Fuck, there he is again, looking at the meat section. I turn away. I go into a different aisle and when I leave there he is in my aisle and steals a look at me.

Okay, the gym, the fucken parking lot, and now off-campus at the grocery store. This situation is gathering momentum. I’m such a prude. I keep going. As I head towards the cash register several minutes later, there he is again turn into me. I just look at him, and he looks at me (there’s that intensity again), as he turns away he winks.

Aaaaah—some indication as to the reasoning behind all the looks. Finally, I resolve myself as I leave the store, I’m going to have to go after this one. He may not be my type, but also, its not going to be like this always.

Analysis

The intensity of stares is something of a consuming mystery to me. Whoever said that the eyes are the gateway to the soul must have meant that it is like the doors of an elevator—opening one set, opens the next.

I have been on the receiving end of some incredibly penetrating stares. Without a doubt, I must resemble a dear caught in headlights when I look back. I cannot recognize the look without opening myself to its impact.

Its intensity knocks me hard, like a blow to the gut. I refer to the gut because the vulnerability of the stare is so pervasive that it cannot, except from a complete senseless being, demand some reciprocation. Who can stand and see this tremendous act of vulnerability without recognizing and relating to the most human emotions lying just beyond the fragile surface of the stare?

There is of course, retarded lust and it is—“whatever”. But then there are looks that communicate something akin to “emotional lust”. It’s a profound, tremendous, and intense “neediness”. Except, it is so utterly authentic, that it cannot be but attractive in its genuineness, and not connotative of the pejorative use of the term.

The first time I got it was at sports camp when a teammate and I were injured and sat out of a game together. As I approached to sit next to him, he looked up at me, and hit me with “the look”. I was stunned and sat. He proceeded to flirt with me.

Another time was while leaving a mall in an elevator. A tourist walked in and when he saw me, took off his sunglasses and again hit me with “the look”. We chit chatted, and he was very friendly.

Of course, then there was the morning I ran into Him. I was jogging and he was going to class. I stopped, and he hit me with it. Except this time I hit him back almost simultaneously. We locked eyes without saying a word for what seemed like quite a while. We finally talked, and arranged to meal together for the first time.

Most recently, I have become terse in my focused attitude and do not allow for the look. Still, there are some who get my attention, and then they have the opportunity to hit me with it.

As inhumanly as I have learned to run my life, it unsettles me and reconnects me whenever I do get struck. Sadly, this is soooo fucken superficial compared to true relating.

Food

So my roommate caught me eating today for the first time. He’s a dork but a really nice one. The worst are mean dorks.

I said I discovered how to make protein brownies—they actually taste and feel like brownies. He laughed. Then he got this slightly perturbed inquisitive look on his face and asked, “You know I’ve only ever seen you eat omelets, protein shakes…, and Jello.” I then said dryly, “I also eat toast.”

“Oh yea!” he says and adds “with that butter spray.” I was like “Yup.” So he finally then said, “You mean you live off of only that stuff???”

I just gave him a neutral nod. He bellowed with laughter after a second of rumination—I thought it was rather funny too.

In Class

I am soooo bored in class. The prof is showing us some environmental movie from the late 70s / early 80s. It supposed to be really compelling but its not. I see it as a bit shallow. Its trying to argue that humans are really unnatural and that we should go back to living more naturally like the animals. Its rather odd.

Its funny though the images that are supposed to epitomize artifice and unnaturalness really remind me of really cool natural pictures that are microscopic. Latices, networks, synchronized business—all of these speak to me of the nature that most of the time is beyond our naked eye’s threshold.

My prof is sooo political and unfortunately is only so implicitly. I wish he would cut the bull shit and just say what he thinks and not be afraid to defend and have others do the same for themselves.

I so just want to quote Hobbes but I know that doing so would antagonize him out of his mind---HAHAHAHA. All is artificial—are not the circuits and the locomotives and the combustions that occur akin to our nerves, muscle, and microcellular processes?

I do not disagree with him—that’s the funny part or the irony. I just think that his approach is indirect and so unconvincing.

Okay—we’re watching so much of this fucken movie and its apparently not going anywhere but he said it was coming up.

Analysis

So I’ve been thinking about this encounter with the professor and cute boy. Obviously certain events do not add up—namely, the professor knew I liked this guy before I gave him my number.

Even when he brought up cute boy for the first time—he sarcastically asked me if he and I had been in the same class. Its clear we were not—beyond clear. He graduated three years ago. Then, he knew also that I liked him because I suggested he give my number to him.

Plus, I figure now that the awkwardness when I had asked him to give cute boy my number was because he was deliberating whether to tell me at that point or to wait.

So he waited. The fact that he later voiced his doubts about the durability of cute boy’s sexuality makes me guess that the professor allowed for my error to test cute boy—to let him know that he has options.

A few funny moments have transpired altogether throughout our interactions in the professor’s presence. I knew that cute boy was really intimidated by me at the party. I remember seeing his face and working to hide his curiosity about me.

I remember the way we left the party—and clearly so did the professor. In fact, it was the professor’s partner who had hinted at the exit rather overtly that night. He said that the two guys who were supposed to help them clean up had girls to meet. He then looked at us very oddly as if asking us the same questions. I looked at him and just kept silent. The mutuality of the reaction punctuated the absence of a response.

The professor made a very funny observation about me regarding my interaction with other guys who liked me—“You can be at times wonderfully clueless.” I laughed with my heart because all the stories I did not have time to mention to him proved his point oh so much further.

Likely the professor also saw me get cute boy’s e-mail address. He probably also cute boy’s reaction to our conversation—it was sort of intense in the sense that clearly the conversation was not a casual light one.

I don’t know where this is going. There’s one more event to write about.

What Have I Done?

Man oh man. It sucks to be socially retarded—to believe that you are undesireable and to create a self-fulfilling prophecy.

The cool professor was in town today. He was moving from one office to another this weekend.

The first night he was here he called me up and asked me to dinner. I showed up early, helped him move some of the larger pieces in his office and we headed out.

He took me to one of the nicest restaurants in town. It was hott. We sat down and talked for the first time for real. He told me about his ex-wife, his husband, and his very long career of affairs in academia.

I was stunned and tickled nearly to the point of tears by his stories. I loved it. Few people can roll with such stories. I offered my own repertoire and the evening went off excellently.

He mentioned that cute boi—the guy from the party at the end of the spring semester was coming to help him also move the following day. He sarcastically asked me if I remembered him. I said of course and asked him about how he was doing. He gave me the low-down.

Cute boi had suffered a major career disappointment over the past couple months. I told the professor that I had e-mailed him but that he never got back to me. The professor was oddly silent for a moment—it might have also just been me. He said that his impression was that cute boi had not wanted to admit just how hard of a blow his disappointment was to him.

I acquiesced. A long silence followed, and finally I broke it by saying, “Do me a favor, will you? Give him my number.” He said, “I will do that.” Then he said, “Why don’t you come by tomorrow at around 5 or 6pm. I have some matters to discuss with him and by then we will be done and ready to get dinner.” I said, “I’ll be there.”

During his update on cute boi he mentioned that he is so utterly honest and kind hearted. He was sweetly innocent. I couldn’t but rejoin with an abrupt—“Yes, he is.” The professor then said, “Most people who get to know him fall in love with him.”

The statement hit me hard. I wondered about what had cute boi thought about me. Did the professor’s theory about his not e-mailing back hold water? I kept a tense silence.

Later on, he asked me about my last academic year. I told him how my perception of professor’s had declined severely. As I told him the stories, he asked what I thought might account for these problems.

I slowly but bluntly told him that professors found me odd and that I could distinguish this reaction now even early upon meeting. He asked me to name this reaction. I tried and said anger and envy. He said—“Yes. It is envy and fear—two very powerful emotions.”

I said that it was rather daunting to experience because of the intensity. He said that it was bound to happen because of my beauty. As he said that last phrase he turned to the side and sort of muffled his words. My eyes slightly widened with curiosity and I asked, “I’m sorry could you say that again?”

He said, “Your beauty. You have an unusual and striking beauty that intimidates people.” Then he went to mention other characteristics that would make it difficult for people to place me in the most basic of categories among them was an unconventional “earnestness” that people did not expect.

He told me that I would always have to work harder to bring people’s defenses down as they would attempt to protect themselves from me by stereotyping me as an ass and a jerk.

We parted ways and agreed to meet the following day.

I was nervous beyond belief and excited at the same time. I couldn’t believe that I would get a second chance with cute boi. OMG—what the hell would I do or say?

I did my face more than once to make sure it would look even more effortless and naturally flawless than usual. I conditioned my hair to make sure it would be as soft looking as possible as well.

I dressed to look ready to move. But I made sure that my attire hid me and yet piqued curiosity as to what lay under the clothes. Baginess can be a good thing.

I arrived and cute boi wasn’t there. The professor greeted me heartily and told me that cute boi was off dumping some trash in the recycling bin.

Last time I saw cute boi I had overdone self-confidence. I had to avoid that problem. Plus, this time, I knew that I liked him and that I wanted to let him know that feeling. I looked at some boxes found a spot to collate and sat on the ground. I couldn’t look intimidating while sitting on the ground.

He came in. He was so tall. He had a big smile on his face and he said, “Hey!” He greeted me with “Its good to see you again”. I got up and shook his hand and said something along the same lines. I loved his smile. Not because its particularly sexy or brilliant but because it perfectly portrays his flippant and yet keen demeanor.

I loved it and I was instantly shy. His smile I thought had been a little strained. I could tell because there were traces of other emotions there. I just could not read from where or exactly about what they were.

We got to work and immediately he started cracking non-chalant jokes. We laughed a lot. But I was uneasy and I could tell that either he was too or that he picked it up in me. He said he was going to the vending machine to get a drink and offered to bring some more back. Prof and I declined and he went. He was gone for a while and I could then over hear him on the phone.

When he came back, the professor said, “We should figure out dinner.” Cute boi then said, “Oh—I just made dinner plans”

Fuck, I kept my face low and pinned to the files directly in front of me. Goddamn—this move was odd. It didn’t make sense. Obviously, he didn’t know I was showing up, and he was going to have dinner with the professor. Was he avoiding me?

The professor was sort of surprised too. Cute boi said however that he needed to spend sometime with the girl who was hosting him in town. So then the professor said, lets go for a walk chat some more. I knew that they had some legitimate business to talk about and they did for a few minutes. During that time I got most things done.

I waited in mild agony. And realized, if he comes back in, I had to ask him out, and if the professor returned alone, I would have to chase him out to the lot and ask him out. I wrote my number on a piece of paper ahead of time and waited.

He came in said that he had just been given a lot to think about and then went to recycle his soda can. The professor looked at me and said, “We’ll go to dinner soon.”

I nodded and headed in the direction of cute boi. I caught him on the way back and just said, “Would you like to hang out some time? He got pensive without breaking a stare that he directed straight in front of him but not at me.” He said, “I would but I am booked.” He said so without looking at me. I was uneasy by his failure to make eye contact. I had expected this answer for some reason however. So pulled out my number handed it to him and said, “Here, if you ever get the chance, let me know.”

He looked at it, and again pensive and with a sort of unwavering stare at it and then directly in front of him without looking at me, said, “Good I was going to ask you for this anyway.”

The words were right, but there something odd about the way he said them. Something was not making sense. It was bad. I knew it. He must be seeing someone I thought. Fuck—why wouldn’t the professor have told me prior.

He departed and the professor and I headed to another one of the city’s nicest restaurants. This time, I had not eaten most of the day so as to not overload my body netwise. We talked again for a long long time. I told him all about my family and his reaction was very telling.

He told me about his family and our common experiences became obvious. He told me about his husband and how that worked out. It was phenomenal again.

We left and got back to moving. I told him I had given cute boi my number. He said, “Good. He’s very sweet. He’ll call you back.” I said, “I doubt it.” And then shot back at him a very cynical stare. He then said, “He’s a very ----- guy. He’s very cautious.” Again, he muffled his words, and I asked for clarification.

He repeated, “He’s straight and knows that people always think that he’s gay and is cautious about that perception.” I lost it on the inside.

I said—“I so thought he was gay.” I even cited the very odd instances from the party. The professor said that others had wondered the same for the same reasons. He followed it up with—“However, I could be wrong. Before today he and I have not spent much time together. Things might have changed.”

I felt betrayed, conned, duped, screwed over, all that good shit. I was like, WTF. Something had died in me and it hurt like hell. I had built this guy up in my head a great deal and the hope was dashed in a very incomprehensible way. It did not make sense. It did not add up. The professor added that he obviously very pro-gay and that most of his friends were gay men. The enigma only became more accute and so did my pain.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Nothing made sense at this point. Why did the professor wait until now? Why did cute boi seem to flirt with me at the part? Why did he give me those looks I have un-mistakenly picked out in guys who come to crush on me hard?

We chatted about other guys in my life this past year. We talked well into the morning. He was shocked at how unbelievably fearful I was. He said that all these guys had obviously felt for me. They like me and that I somehow had found ways to avoid intimacy with all of them. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing, but he was right.

He said that I should just drop any and all shame I had about being gay and to just go after the people I liked regardless of gender or orientation. He said that started confessing his feelings to people when he left high school and hasn’t stopped since then. He said that at first its scary and that embarrassment is inevitable but not that big of a deal. He said that in turn, wonderful things have transpired in his life as a result. He is still good friends with straight men he fell in love with him. They still love him back even though its platonic. They even feel guilty for not being gay.

We finished up with an incredible discussion on political theory. He blew me away with his latest theory which is going to be soon published. I thought it was brilliant and it answered a lot of questions I had harbored recently. I then left.

He and cute boi were going to get together the following morning. The professor needed to have moved everything by 5pm. I thought to swing by at 4:30pm to make sure he had finished. The gym is near by his buildings so scheduling was not an issue.

I was safe from cute boi and I would make sure to not send the wrong signals to him again.

Low on self-esteem and feeling down on myself, I decided to ho it up a little for the gym. I was still looking very together from yesterday and all I needed was to dress right. A simple loose yet somewhat fitted and clingy white undershirt with fitted yet box-cut knee-long Nike running shorts did the trick.

I drove around and noticed that cute bois car was still there. Fuck I thought and postponed my check up on the professor until after my workout. I figured that him and cute boi were still talking business.

Entering the gym I phoned the professor and left a voice mail letting him know my proximity and availability. I started my workout. I was looking pretty darn good and I pushed myself. Ironically, the other professor was there to workout too.

After having two dinners with a professor who is straightforward and honest, I had absolutely no patience for an idiotic dork who could rarely even be forthright with me about objective topics.

I ignored him for most of the workout. I knew my appearance was going to have some sort of an effect as I don’t think he’s ever seen me in gym mode. It’s a rather distinctly different picture than class mode. Most people do not see it coming.

I finished and approached him. He immediately made sure to not look at me. It was very odd but I kept absolute professional composure greeted him and asked him some questions about the course that I had.

He answered them in a somewhat incoherent way. I dismissed his idiocy and just finished up with a few more questions about the class. We impromptu scheduled a meeting for early this week and he sort of smirked when we agreed on it. I just returned a stern and yet innocent reply, “Good.” I could tell he was avoiding looking at my torso.

I said “good seeing you” and left. I know he’s either bi or gay. I know he thinks I have a major thing for him. I know it clouds his judgment and it fucken bothers me. I know that I have made him look bad in class because I knew some of the themes very well. I didn’t know how to react. He could not be straightforward and I was not going to do the work for him. I judged him as not worth my time and decided to just not pay him heed anymore beyond the bullshit in class.

I went and got my phone from my locker. Fucken dork that I can be—the professor phoned me twice.

I called back and we agreed that I would help him with the last few boxes.

I pulled around the curb and cute boi was loading them. He looked at me and shouted, “You missed all the fun.” I asked, “Is everything out of there?” He said yes and told me the mini-plan for loading the boxes. He was looking my torso up and down as discretely as possible. I started loading.

I caught him looking at me although it was a bare catch—almost not even a catch. He looked away and then said, “Were you just running?” Dumb question I thought—had I been running in this weather I would have been soaked all the way to my undies. I said, “no I just came from the gym” I then said, “I wouldn’t run in this type of weather”. He said, “yea, that would be crazy”.

We finished and went inside to wait for the professor who was finishing something up on the floor above us. I struck up conversation about my dinner with professor the previous night. He said he knew what amazing stories the professor had. He mentioned one in particular that he couldn’t ever quite understand. I just looked at him earnestly and said “I could.” Then he said, “You’ll have to explain it to me sometime because I sure don’t.” I didn’t say what I should have said which was, “You would if you were bisexual.”

He cracked a joke. I laughed. I had processed already my detachment from him. Its disgusting how I can do that so quickly and effectively. I am more than a robot. I am like a cold and metallic monster. I can distance myself so incredibly and yet be cunning and sharp like a series of blades ready to reduce everything to pulp. I can retain organic malleability and versatility as well as the unyielding ugliness of the hardest metal. I am dead inside and all that is left is protective prickly instinct. I don’t know what to do or if there is anything to do.

The professor was coming down the stairs and he said loudly, “I hear laughter.” I said, “We’re finished professor.”

He asked cute boi if and when he had to leave. He said he had the rest of the evening. The professor didn’t ask me. I said, “thank you for last night. I will be thinking about your advice for a long time.”

We made plans for the next time we would meet. Cute boi made himself apparently aloof while the prof and I talked. We got into our cars and they were going to the next building. I was not invited so I then asked the professor when his flight was leaving. He said he had enough time to finish moving the final load and to make it to the airport. Cute boi walked away to his car and I suppose he thought I would meet them back at the professors other office because he did not say good bye.

I left, and we didn’t say good bye. I didn’t know what to do. I wasn’t invited but I now know I should have just gone. I should have taken the initiative and possibly hung out with cute boy after the final load.

However, I would have done so only to be friends with him. Perhaps it was however best this way. I think cute boy is confused and that situation would not be good for me. The beauty that is his spirit is impossible to deny. I hope I meet someone like that one day who is comfortable with themselves and who can love me back.

I will continue to hang out with the prof. I gather he must know someone else my age who might meet my criteria.

Extracurricular

HOLY SHIT—I’m so fucken bored in class.

We’re supposed 2 be talking about something really fucken deep—people are bringing up Thoreau, Fight Club, and Carusoe.

But we’re never getting to the point really. Never.

I met with the professor just before class. He seems really fucken uneasy basically every single time we’ve met except for once. At which meeting, he said that if I ever wanted to talk about other themes outside of class, that we could get together and discuss.

Geezus… the professor just lets people ramble no matter how many fucken times they regurgitate the same fucken point. Fuck man—this lets the students like him and he seems to have like really gotten a good “discussion” going. But how much are we learning??? I doubt the significance of this format.

Yesterday he admitted that he is guilty of distracting himself so as to avoid dealing with reality in life.

That’s interesting…. I jumped into class for a few minutes and took the discussion in a different direction. I seem to have brought up some deeper stuff in the material than the professor wanted to do so. I don’t know what the hell is going to happen.

Nutty Professor

So apparently someone also came up with the phrase “verbal diarrhea” independently of me and my best ever fag hag.

http://www.cnn.com/2006/SHOWBIZ/books/07/26/books.diablo.cody.ap/index.html

Its funny. Despite our break up 2 years ago, I quote her all the time. She had the phrase “Diarrhea of the mouth” and “my life is a distraction”. She would be wooed onto talk shows because she was so fucken cynical, funny, and direct.

So out of complete boredom, while doing research I decided to enroll in summer classes at a nearby “peer” institution. But fuck—the classes are sort of dumb despite the fact that they are supposed to be “hard”. I’ve out debated two professors now.

One was a complete dork, but the other has more of a backbone, shadier background, and buffed out body. His area of expertise is rather esoteric and I did a little research on it. Turns out that the greatest indicator of who goes into this field—and this result is backed by multiple rigorous studies—is gender, and its not males.

I read more up on it and the studies are rather thorough in the personality descriptions of these folk. They are rare and things in this area have not changed for the past 15 yrs.

My gaydar went off early on in the course. To some degree he was blaring the signal by using Madonna lyrics as class examples.

I’m sort of really into him. I’m into the fact that he’s a professor. He’s older but looks at least 10 years younger. He works out quite a bit and has a body to show for it. He’s reserved, intense, and brilliant. For an older dude, he’s also rather attractive.

There’s more to this story… but for now… Off to do work.

Doing Nothing on a Saturday Night

I could so go out tonight and try and meet folks... for some reason, I'm just not feeling it.

I don't want to fuck up my sleep schedule--I'm doing really well in terms of my fitness goals.

I've been having trouble with my mood and I finally figured out why.
1. I have to have a serious boyfriend regardless of whether I choose to settle down with a dude
or a girl LT.
2. I don't have enough meaningful contact with folk--this one's complicated.

I am somewhat averse to clubs I guess. I've loved them in the past. Partly because here I cannot be as anonymous as when I am a total out of towner. I've been long and around enough here at school to be recognized for any naughtiness. This fact bothers me.

So, an interesting quotes that I found:

SMASHING PUMPKINS
"Zero"

My reflection, dirty mirror
There's no connection to myself
I'm your lover, I'm your zero
I'm the face in your dreams of glass
So save your prayers
For when we're really gonna need'em
Throw out your cares and fly
Wanna go for a ride?

She's the one for me
She's all I really need
Cause she's the one for me
Emptiness is loneliness, and loneliness is cleanliness
And cleanliness is godliness, and god is empty just like me
Intoxicated with the madness, I'm in love with my sadness
Bullshit fakers, enchanted kingdoms
The fashion victims chew their charcoal teeth
I never let on, that I was on a sinking ship
I never let on that I was down
You blame yourself, for what you can't ignore
You blame yourself for wanting more
She's the one for me
She's all I really need
She's the one for me
She's my one and only

Character

What the hell is it??? And who says so?

Today I just realized that this girl I had a crush on deliberately avoids me. We first met this past semester in a class. She got my attention right away—she was hot. Light brown hair, a perfect tight stomach, an ass, big eyes, and pout-ty lips.

She pretended not to see me that first day when I stared at her, but I figured she must be used to it. For a while she didn’t say anything to me, and neither did I to her. I forgot who first said something—oh, wait a minute I did. In class, one time, she said something I could relate to and I just started conversation about it. I sort of thought she was happy I spoke to her and I could tell she was working to mask that feeling.

I saw her a couple times afterwards. Each time she tried to say hi in a friendly way but often I would be distracted or someone I knew would be nearby or I would be on the phone. I am the worst person to try and talk to when just going about the day. Unless there is a clear two way flirting relationship that has been well established through some other event. In retrospect, I realize that it was easy to interpret all of those occasions as rudeness. Subconsciously, I think I meant it to be that way. I was intimidated and didn’t want her to think she commanded my attention too much.

One time after class, we finally got around to having a real conversation. She seems like a passionate girl and the topic was somewhat charged. We stood outside of class for a while and I don’t know why I felt this way or she might have done so but she stood right fucking next to me, almost under me. I was sort of weirded out by it… I don’t know why.

We talked and she seemed although passionate quite ignorant. She still tried to pretend like she knew what she was talking about and that bothered me. She couldn’t just express surprise at novel information or just take a posture of openness. Instead, she just tried to seem confident despite the obvious holes in her rhetoric about a topic she, according to her vehemence, should be knowledgeable. We started walking and eventually crossed paths with this former friend of mine.

This guy used to be a good friend for a while. But suddenly took a distinct dislike for me. Although I had seen his animosity coming and significantly lessened my contact with him, he did later exercise his dislike for me actively and attempted to subvert some of my acquaintances. Unfortunately for him, I do not mis-represent myself but instead only hold-back information. His efforts were counterproductive and his dislike for me fermented. I knew him and the girl I liked were acquainted I just didn’t know to what degree.

As we walked pass by each other, he didn’t greet either one of us. Instead, he stared at me with a very overtly hateful glare. I was almost surprised at how blatant it was. I pretended to not see it and continued on. The girl was also sort of thrown off by his odd demeanor but also pretended not to notice it.

We finally came to a crossing and stood and began to wrap up our conversation. She again stood right under me and I again did not like it, partly because I didn’t really know her yet and I am suspicious of anyone until then. Another guy was heading in our direction. I knew she was good friends with this guy and at times suspected a mutual attraction between them. I couldn’t blame her. This guy was actually really hot. I later struck up conversation with him as I caught him one time staring at me in the gym.

I saw it coming—I knew she would blow me off as this guy would come into her field of vision. I began wrapping up the conversation and watched as she did what I was thinking. I had somewhat of a hard time understanding the whole thing. Looking back, I would say it was just mutual insecurity.

Later on, we bumped into each other in all these weird places. I don’t know why. I couldn’t yet tell if she liked me or not though. I had suspicions but those are insufficient. Finally one day in class, we had more small talk. She asked me a little more about where I grew up, what my parents did, and all such nonsense. She also asked sort of an odd question. She asked me where my parents’ families originally were from—like way back in the day. Although I was slightly confused by her question I told her. She sort of got this weird look on her face when I answered her question. Her gaze while fixed on me seemed to look past me and almost as if talking without being fully conscious of her words said in a slower pace of voice—“yea… that’s a good...” She seemed spaced out as she paused and she resumed her comment. “You’re a good combination,” she finally said. I didn’t know what to make of what she said. Other than the odd expression on her face and the fact that she was staring at me in an awkward way, she didn’t seemed at all self-conscious about her comment. So I came up with some half-assedly cogent shit regarding the topic that was at least somewhat risible and ignored her comment. I was just didn’t expect it and didn’t know how to fucken respond.

Out of all our unexpected run-ins the most conspicuous of all was one weekend evening at the gym—when it was closing very late into the evening. I was the only one working out in there when she came in a few minutes before closing. We got kicked out at the same time and I looked so as to greet her. Instead, she just looked at the gym attendant and ignored me. So I just started walking out of the gym. I started stretching by the exit. I figured she would come out fairly soon. As I started to finish and got up to leave, she was also just beginning to leave and was a few yards away. Instead, she turned sharply and went to the bathroom. I was again weirded out.

When I got to my room, I left her a message online—telling her how funny it was to run into someone else as the gym was closing on a Saturday night. She responded back and was very friendly. She asked me about my plans for the rest of the weekend and beyond. I told her I was busy for the next couple weeks—I was writing five papers all at once. I asked her about her schedule and she gave me the run-down. I told her I would contact her when both of us would be seemingly free—three weeks from then.

The time came and I sent her another message. This time she ignored me. I knew she was free. I knew she was around. I didn’t know what to make of it.

Today, I inadvertently saw someone else’s computer screen and noticed they were chatting with her on-line. I checked my computer screen and noticed that she wasn’t on-line according to it. I switched screen names and checked her status—she had blocked me off her list. I suppose its not the biggest deal. Just stupid college shit. Retarded college shit.

Later today, I brought her up vaguely in conversation with someone else. I learned quickly that she was really good friends with someone else who really didn’t like me. This guy was different. While the other guy tried to be my friend and I allowed him to be so for a time, this guy never made it past my preliminary check point. What do I get for going to a residential school—relational incest. Everyone fucken knows everyone.

At first, I thought, what if she brought me up to one of them, or vice versa—an almost assured occurrence since I had been seen with her. Now, I realize the obvious—if she’s good friends with several people I eschewed—then the friendship was not going to go anywhere. Too bad she happened to be so hot.

So the nexus to character: whenever shit like this happens—whenever someone dislikes me for a reason unbeknownst to me I get paranoid about why I am this way. Do I wrong people? Is this the reason so many folks are disgruntled with me?

I am like anyone else and have multiple moral failings. I lie, cheat, and steal. I lie when I have to or the inconvenience of the truth is too great. The inconvenience has to be extreme however or inconsequential to anything of import. I cheat as in I don’t believe that inconsequential moral things should matter. I am a realist. If the ends far outweigh the externalities of a bent rule here and there—then what’s the problem. My rule instead is acute awareness. The real world is not ideal. Ideal means do not survive long. The best and only solution I can live by is to become as aware as possible of the distance between ideals and reality. Only then I can make the call when logistical issues are not worth the sacrifice in values. In this way, the weighing of priorities can take place with eyes wide open. Inefficiencies because of morals are inescapable. Neither extreme is possible for me—complete efficiency or sainthood.

What I am apparently consistently hated for, I just realized is the crux of my personal morality—awareness. I do relentlessly pursue that awareness and it might be at the cost of others. For a long time, I rarely cared about how this awareness would affect others. I just went ahead and pried at whatever I needed. In that sense, I am horribly selfish and self-centered. Moreover, I have come to the conclusion that most everyone abhors this type of awareness. Reconsidering personal morals is a type of inefficiency that most people cannot stand because it is very immobilizing. Brutal self-examination in the presence of others or that tangentially includes other is disturbing. This paints a noble picture of myself and thus is also insufficient.