I havenít really written any thoughts this summer, so Iím going to try to squelch out one big one about people, relationships, and whatever else I feel like squelching out right now.

This summer has been weird. Iíve drifted away from some of my old friends, and have gotten closer to others. Ali, in particular, Iíve drifted away from. Really, I think we were never very close, because we were both afraid to crack open and share our emotions with other people. We both felt like we had to be strong and self-dependent all the time. It was for that same reason that we bonded: we could understand that about each other, I think, and we knew where our boundaries were. I think I fucked that up a little bit, crossed that boundary, when I came out to her. I think it hit her really hard, partly because sheís religious, and partly because despite her open-mindedness and brilliance, sheís grown up with a bigot for a father and stuff like thatís hard for anyone who doesnít deal with it on a regular basis.

Then thereís the church thing. Iím not averse to religion; I even believe in it sometimes, but not with that herd-o-sheep mentality that Christians are so widely criticized for; that weíre-right-and-youíre-wrong garbage. Shit, I never subscribed to the beliefs THAT much. I just liked it because it was about loving your neighbor and peacefulness and doing things for the common good. It was about living as a society rather than a thrown-together group of individuals who hate each other. Iíd read it since I was a wee little kid, I knew what it was about, and I liked it. But once we started to get into the whole queer-is-sin crock oí shit, I pretty much mentally bailed out. I guess Iím more a believer in the ideology of the New Testament, rather than in Christianity in general. I donít care if Jesus was the son of God or if he walked on water or if the communion wafers (yum yum) turn into his flesh when the priest blesses them or whatnot (which seems a little perverse to me, but then, I see Catholicism as 90% repression and 10% dictating how to let out that repressed energy); I think all this interdenominational cattiness is what Jesus was against in the first fucking place.

So anyway, I couldnít talk to Ali about my problems with religion, although she knew I had a problem with the anti-gay thing since, after all, I did tell her Iím bi. (I donít like calling myself bi either, but thatís another thing entirely.) I feel like I canít talk to her about this stuff, either; I feel like sheís morally superior, or something, and that every time I do something wrong, like flirt, or do something irresponsible, or make up an excuse to get out of doing something, she and the Christian Coalition are frowning down on my blond, bisexual, not-a-true-believer head. And I hate that feeling. So Iíve been spending less and less time with Ali, unconsciously at first, but even now that I realize what Iím doing Iím not going to stop. Iím still friends with her, but weíre not half - shit, not a quarter - as close as we were last summer. I donít particularly like this development, but thatís how it is and Iím not apologizing for being who I am and thinking what I think and believing what I believe. Sorry. No, wait, Iím not sorry at all.

Then thereís Dan. Dan and I have grown closer than any other friendship I have right now - and definitely closer than Iíve been to any other guy. Weíre not going out, although thatís only because I donít want to, and it doesnít make much difference except that we donít have a physical relationship. I havenít really been sexually attracted to anyone since I broke up with Brad, who I was hopelessly, crazily attracted to. Now that that relationship has fizzled and died, itís like thereís something inside me thatís broken, that wonít let me want anyone that much again. At least, not yet. Maybe what people say about getting over relationships - that it takes twice as long as the relationship lasted - is true. In that case, Iíve got another year to go. Meanwhile, Iíve got Dan. Dan is sexually attracted to me, which is flattering to know, but I donít let it bug me. The nice thing about being friends with Dan is that we both know exactly where we stand with each other, and we can tell each other anything, and we discuss all of our weird thoughts and ask each other weird questions about the opposite sex and families and relationships and whatís going on in our lives and all that stuff. I know I can curl up and put my head in his lap and he isnít going to think the wrong thing. We spend the majority of our free time together, or on the phone with each other, which sounds a little sickeningly "together"; but when we start to get sick of each otherís company, we realize it and spend some time apart from each other. And we never stay mad at each other very long - I donít think either of us could stand it. I think it works out perfectly, because Iím more of a one-best-friend kinda gal than a group-o-friends one. I want someone whoíll be there for me whenever I need them, and vice versa. Someone for whom I am the most important person in his/her life, and vice versa (this is true of Dan - he is, with the exception of my family, the most constant person in my life at the moment). When I go away to college, heís going to be left here and I think that scares him more than anything.

Whatís also nice about having Dan as a friend (and almost constant companion) is that guys donít hit on me as much (and Katie can attest to the fact that I do get hit on by random street vendors and stuff - right Katie?), or stare at me when Iím driving or walking down the street. Heís better even than a can of pepper spray.

Another weird relationship twist thatís cropped up this summer is the rekindling of my friendship with Brad. Brad, the old flameÖ rekindlingÖ ha ha. Iím so witty I crack myself up. (caroline, get a grip!) (sorry!) Anyway, a week ago I was driving downtown with Katie, and Brad drives by in the other direction, hangs out his window, and yells "Iíve got to talk to you!" Oooookay. I get home, throw down my shit on my bed, and the phone rings. Who could it be? Who else. The boy hasnít spoken to me in almost a year, and he calls me up and offers me a job. Three weekdays plus the weekend, thirty dollars an hour. I was like, shit, tell me when to be there. So a very short & informal interview later, I ended up working for Bradís boss, Erard. Heís a funky old British guy who runs his own market research company. He needed someone who could type like a speed demon, and I fit the bill. So I spent five days typing up Erardís interviews as he conducted them, getting free food and soda, working thirteen hours a day (13 hours a day, $30 an hourÖ you do the math) and generally enjoying myself as much as possible when cooped in an office building until late at night. Hell, itís better than the slave labor Iím supposed to be doing now. At least that job was interesting. So anyway, back to Brad. Since Brad works for this guy and got me the job in the first place, I see him fairly often now. When I went for my second interview, where I met Erard (it wasnít an interview, really, it was Erard explaining what the job was to me for an hour - paid), when I went out to the driveway I started talking to Brad. Of course, I didnít make it past the driveway. I made it about as far as Bradís car and then we started talking. And talking. And talking. We made our way to my truck, where I changed my clothes while we kept talking. And then we sat in the back of the truck and kept talking. This lasted for over an hour, but seemed like a long time, since the longest conversation weíd had before that - after we broke up - was about thirty seconds long. This is weird. This is exciting. So periodically Iíd see him at work, although I got there long before he woke up and got back long after heíd left, and weíd talk. Once Erard called him from where we were doing our interviews, and put me on the phone with him. Mistake. We ended up talking, again, for an hour. One of the clients was going in and out of the room periodically, and must have heard me laughing and teasing him, because afterwards she asked me who that was.

All I can say is, itís a bit weird. Itís weird that I look at him now and am not at all sexually attracted to him, whereas before I couldnít keep my hands off of him. Itís weird that something suddenly clicked and now we get along so well, when for a year he didnít even have the courage to talk to me. I intimidated him, he says. The whole thing is strange.

The other people in my life this summer include Katie, who I see periodically and whose continuing adventures in life never cease to amaze me; Dina Ďn Jo, who I saw more of at the beginning of the summer than anyone (except Dan, of course), and life was peachy; and Eric, who, if I may be so blunt, was disappointingly self-centered. Girls like it when you at least pretend to care if theyíre enjoying themselves. I think he knows what I mean there. Anyway, lifeís been interesting.

This brain-cleansing experience was brought to you by my sheer lack of motivation in all things library-related right now. If you didnít like it, go stick your finger up your butt. Itís not here for your benefit.



thoughts | brain | writings | sparkyville


this page by sparky ( kumquat37@hotmail.com )
written 08/03/98