During our weekend shopping binge, Ron and I were looking for a place to sit down whilst the women shopped – I’m always amazed at how much longer it takes girls to shop. I’m more of a search and destroy shopper. Find it. Color? Size? Price? Buy! And you’re done. I have childhood memories of sighing loudly and frequently and obnoxiously as Mom and Heather took me into Hour Three or Saturday morning shopping. So anyway, Ron and I sit in the husband chairs at the Maidenform store while Brigitte rifles through the various tables of panties… a Navy boy comes up and is loitering – his buddy and his girlfriend are shopping in the store. The Navy guy remarks about women and lingerie and fabric and I say, ‘It doesn’t matter – it still gonna take a half hour to take off.’ He mentions that he just finished boot camp and is training to be a Field Medic – the mall was full of Navy men and women – they graduated this weekend. Suddenly the war became very real. These kids are 18. They all look so young to me. It’s crazy. He said that they now train the medics in firearms. He then looked at us and asked, ‘you guys look like you might have been in the service.’ I said, ‘no, we’re boyfriends.’ Okay, I really didn’t say that – but I wanted to. I just said, ‘nope’ and he and his friends were on their way. It’s important to me to be ‘straight acting-appearing’ as they say – I don’t want to call attention… I think it’s a midwest thing. I’m still a small town boy that wants to have all the small town things regardless of my eventual spouse. I detest the screeching fag stereotype – especially when it appears in the wild. Part of me thinks – well, of course you’re calling attention to yourself if you are going to act like that. Sort of like The Onion’s headline a few months ago Gay Pride Parade Sets Mainstream Acceptance of Gays Back 50 Years. And I wince when the heavy-swishers come in to the coffee shop. I guess I just question whether they’re acting sincere and like their real selves or if it is all just a facade – an act… a stage-queen persona? I resist being normal yet I crave being normal. I think I need to get the book Sissyphobia
I downloaded Alien Ant Farm’s cover of Jacko’s ‘Smooth Criminal’ and I can’t stop listening. If I could just sample the first 8 measures and repeat them constantly in my head I’d be fine dut-duh! duh-dut-duh-duh duh-da-duh-duh da-da-da-duh duh!
Major shopping extravaganza this weekend… Karen, Brigitte, Ron and Roy (works with Karen & Brig)… we started with a carbo load at Ann Sather and then went to Gurney Mills mega-mall. It was a day of consumption. We traversed the enourmous mall – a purchase at the Gap but we all scored at the Banana Republic factory outlet. Dropped the wad on some new clothes for work. We intended to be home at a reasonable hour but the hour long trip home took two and half hours for no apparent reason – naps ensued. Roy and Ron wimped out on dinner so the girls and I went to Andes to eat. And did we eat. As we rolled our asses home Brigitte remarked, ‘Most people our age stumble home drunk. We stumble home fat. I shouldn’t have pushed it with the spicy chicken kabobs. Ah, hubris… but my evening was not done. I had to go to Anthony’s birthday party still and then dancing with Ron. Fell asleep and then woke up to go to Anthony’s Come As You Aren’t Party (I wore my satanic mechanic costume from H’ween) and then went to Ron’s and we both decided not to go out dancing and I ended up falling asleep there. The next morning we got coffee/tea before he went off to work and met his friend Gilbert – I remarked to Gilbert that when I first me him he called me Mr. September and now it seems I’ve lasted through November… ‘You’re Mr. Autumn-Winter,’ he assured me.
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