I can't believe it's Fall already
I've somehow managed to avoid posting anything for the entire Summer. It's Summer marks my retirement as a thinking individual and my homecoming as a doodoohead that has nothing better to do than go out or waste time instead of being proactive. Honestly, I tried a couple of times to post something and my inspiration just wasn't there. Instead, I would end up writing things that made no sense, or spent time writing a short story that is still in the works because it seems a little Annie Hall to me. Not much has changed since I last posted an entry. I mean, early June and late September seem like they would be entirely different, but it seems like my life has been following a patter that is outside of my control zone, and I'm really just along for the ride. I can't seem to remember anything interesting that has happened in the last few months, but I know that I would be mistaken if I said nothing has changed. Everything changes everyday.
My drag queen experience really took off and I am now able to do my own make-up and style myself, as well as my clothes, in record time. I now own a pair of leopard print heels that look divine on me and do not at all make look fat (unless I stand next to Calista Flockhart, yes, she's still alive).
I've also learned how to sew, and how to pick fabrics that go together and, ultimately, to design and fit clothes. Anyway, enough of the boring talk.
For the past couple of months things with the syrian have been getting really serious. It's like, totally serious, but not all the way. Hard to explain, I know, but suddenly we find ourselves all over each other and watching movies together, and going out to lunch to a park overlooking the Hudson, looking at the ducks and seagulls and talking about the Bible and how it says that even thinking about sex is sinful. Do you think this is fucked up enough yet? OK, it gets even more interesting. There's nothing better than a talk about premarital sex or man-on-man sex and how it equates guilt and shame than actually having man-on-man sex after said talk. I told you things were more fucked up than they sounded. However, there is this man who cannot possibly have a meaningful relationship at this point in time, telling me he loves me and I can't do anything else but love him back, because he's giving me not just the same ol' sex, but something much more comforting. I have someone to call in the middle of the day (or night) for no reason, just to hear the sound of his voice, and someone to call me in the middle of the night (or day) just to hear my voice back. You can start feeling jealous now.
My drag queen experience really took off and I am now able to do my own make-up and style myself, as well as my clothes, in record time. I now own a pair of leopard print heels that look divine on me and do not at all make look fat (unless I stand next to Calista Flockhart, yes, she's still alive).
I've also learned how to sew, and how to pick fabrics that go together and, ultimately, to design and fit clothes. Anyway, enough of the boring talk.
For the past couple of months things with the syrian have been getting really serious. It's like, totally serious, but not all the way. Hard to explain, I know, but suddenly we find ourselves all over each other and watching movies together, and going out to lunch to a park overlooking the Hudson, looking at the ducks and seagulls and talking about the Bible and how it says that even thinking about sex is sinful. Do you think this is fucked up enough yet? OK, it gets even more interesting. There's nothing better than a talk about premarital sex or man-on-man sex and how it equates guilt and shame than actually having man-on-man sex after said talk. I told you things were more fucked up than they sounded. However, there is this man who cannot possibly have a meaningful relationship at this point in time, telling me he loves me and I can't do anything else but love him back, because he's giving me not just the same ol' sex, but something much more comforting. I have someone to call in the middle of the day (or night) for no reason, just to hear the sound of his voice, and someone to call me in the middle of the night (or day) just to hear my voice back. You can start feeling jealous now.