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Things started feeling off on New Years Day.  He left early, and our texts the rest of the day had an odd quality.  He was being more distant.  Yesterday I stopped by his place to pick up a jacket I had left there.  We chatted briefly, all smiles.  Last night, I was out with JRicardo and he texts:

D: Hey so I just wanted to clear the air a little and tell you that I really do like you a lot, and I don’t want there to be any weirdness between us.  I just don’t think I’m ready to be in a relationship right now.  And yeah I’m not really the best communicator either… I hope we’re ok though

Me: Hey first of all thanks for this.  Second of all, let’s just hang out.  In fact I’m at 440 with a friend and was debating whether to invite you (you are invited)

Me: Third, who knows about relationships… I like being with you and would like to continue that for however long

D: Yes ok that sounds good, I just got off work, be there in like 20?

So he comes and good times are had by all.  In the morning I start to head towards the door, then turn back to kiss him goodbye.

Last night his text seemed fine, but throughout the workday today I started feeling sort of sad…  I like him a lot too.  We are going to chat tomorrow to get more specific about what our not-a-relationship will be.  

What is a relationship anyway?  This is what I know:

1. I want to talk to him (almost) every day.  Even if its just a quick text-message convo.
2. I want to spend time with him.  Out on the town, sitting on the couch, chilling with friends, laughing in bed.
3. I haven’t had any desire to flirt with or date or kiss or whatever anyone else since I’ve met him (the Tuesday before Thanksgiving).  I want to flirt with and kiss him (and whatever).
4. I smile more when I’m around him.

Feelings are hard, you guys.

I may have attended my last UC costume party this weekend, and I barely had a costume.  I like costume parties and like making my own costumes for them using little to no money.  I like the thrown-together look that arises; fairy wings made out of coat hangers and kleenex beat store bought ones any day.

An overview!  Robot Rock, Gaza Strip Club, Vampire, Halloween 09, Halloween 05, Ninja, Halloween 10, Mustache, Nerd, Toga, Prepster, Vodka Tonic.  Not pictured include: Kevin Federline, Risky Business, Twinkerbell, St Valentine’s Masquerade, Pogs, Swimsuits/Undies…

Anyway, Nick was kind enough to invite me to a party, “Smooth Criminals,” on Saturday.  I repainted the domino mask I made for the St Valentine’s Masquerade all-black, and basically recreated the Halloween 09 costume, minus the text on the shirt and the money bag: basic stock character robber.  But I can’t tie the mask on myself, so I had it in my back pocket when I arrived.  But lo, I found that seemingly no one was in costume, save 2 other guys in b&w striped shirts.  (The youth of today!  No commitment to costumery!) 

Will there be costume parties in Real Life?  Will I just have to host my own?  Will people come?  In costume?

A few weeks ago Jonesy used the acronym “GTL” in a conversation, and upon my confusion explained the Jersey Shore philosophy of Gym Tan Laundry. “These are the 3 things you need to be successful at the club: a pumped body, an orange complexion, and a freshly laundered Affliction tshirt.”

I had many questions, such as “do they wash a shirt a day?” “do they know what hangers are?”  He said “because they don’t smell freshly laundered if you do it that way.  They also wear the ‘shirt before the shirt,’ wearing a wifebeater until right before they go to the club, when they declare ‘tshirt time!’”

This outpour of information amazed and confused and then started to seem familiar.  For don’t we all have some sort of method of getting ready to go out?  Certainly not something as ritualized as GTL, and mine definitely does not have G or T…

HCSC:  Hat Clean Shower Clothes.  

First, I put on this winter-snow-cap-beenie, because it makes my hair straight and stuff.  

Then I clean my room.  This is an important step.  You see, what if tonight is the night, where I meet my forever soulmate and he declares at the end of the night that we must make haste to my house for intimate love-making.  What if tonight is that night, but I stumble and say “oh er well the pizza boxes and the cereal bowl and uh uh.”  No dear readers, no!  So, I always tidy my room before I go out.

Then I take a shower.  I do not remove the hat for the shower.  Water makes my hair curly again, ruining the straightening/static-electric effects.

Then I pick my clothes.  Because I’m a princess, I have to try several outfits.  This might actually be because of my limited palette and general lack of that fashion x-factor.  Now I’m all ready!  

(If it’s a Friday, there is a 1 hour Fringe break whenever 9:00 occurs in the sequence.)

Something I never get are especially personal questions via tumblr-ask, the “TMI Tuesday” sort of thing.  I mean “get” in two senses: receive and understand.  I don’t mind the former as you’ll see in this discussion of the latter.

The questions I am referring to are things such as “how big is your dick?”  ”circumcised?”  ”fave sex position?” etc.  You may argue how personal each of these questions is, but regardless, the questions are all irrelevant.  The only reason I can imagine wanting to know is if the asker has some sort of internet-crush, and the answers will make their wet dream fantasies more realistic or something.  But this your fantasy!  Make the person exactly how you want them to be!  What if the actual answers disappoint?

So hear this, hypothetical reader who totally has the hots for me: My dick is perfect and I do exactly those sex moves that you want me to do.  I specialize in that.  Sexing you all up just the way you like.  I look amazing naked, by the way.

Actual readers without the hots for me, I apologize for that imagery.

Sometimes I feel like I can remember everything.  This is unrealistic, but I do think that I might have at least an above-average memory.  (Or perhaps as Lukas put it, an “acute memory”)  In part it helps that the past 6 years have been so compartmentalized: I can trace a memory back to where I was at that time, and that usually gives me a 3 month period to work in.  I imagine if I had just been in Cincinnati straight through things would get jumbled.  

This compartmentalization works another way, in that I’ve become used to changing and returning to scenes, such that I might leave for 3 months and barely speak to anyone from school, and then we are all back together and it is as if no time has passed.  I would rarely even ask about what people had been up to in that time away.  

Taken together, it feels like “in recent memory” for me is years; while I know something occurred a year ago, it feels recent, thus I act as if little time has passed.

And so it came as a surprise to realize that this occurred more than a month ago.  I guess I did miss the boat after all.  I’m worried that my sense of time is so distorted than I’m missing key things, like that I don’t call people, or go 2 weeks without talking to someone, and the other person interprets this as disinterest or even an active dislike, when I’m actually off in another compartment not realizing that anything I’m not currently looking at isn’t just on “pause” in the wings.

The age bracket I now find myself in is much broader than in the past.  That is, growing up, and even through most of undergrad, the people I associated with were +/- 2 years.  But grad school naturally brings together a much broader range, from 23 at the youngest all the way into the 30s.  

Gay culture seems to exist in this broader age zone as well.  At a bar or club you’ll see people 10 years apart in age behaving and interacting  essentially the same.  And this is what concerns me.  Last night I went to a little pre-party at a friend’s friend’s apartment downtown.  Like any 30-year-old gay’s downtown apartment, it was modern, spotless, high-tech; cold, emotionless, empty.

Is this what I have to look forward to?  A loose network of people whose sexuality is the primary commonality, all working jobs 9-5 and going home to identical flats, meeting up on the weekend to go to identical bars?

I come to the question; what is my purpose?  When I graduate, there’s a fair chance I’ll end up at the firm in San Francisco, which was great, but that can’t be it.  Work for a firm for 20-30 years, maybe eventually getting enough clout to actually design?  Why am I even in architecture?

I’ve thought about what it would take to be a “Great Architect.”  I have certain natural talents, which if applied conscientiously could produce great things.  (Get started on Complete World Knowledge.  Next, expand this list, then start checking things off.  I sympathize, Lukas.)  It would require tremendous work and dedication, but I could do it.  (This is, of course, saying very little.  Lots of people could do great things, few make the effort, for all sorts of perfectly good reasons.)  But, is becoming a Great Architect my purpose?  

Maybe I’m too young to have a “purpose”… but I certainly don’t want to just fall accidentally into a pattern that will define m(y lif)e.

For reference, this picture.  It is more robust now, but none of the pictures I just took were particularly cute, so you are stuck with the old one.

Twice before, after having not shaved for a few days, I had shaved everything but the mustache region, looked at it and laughed, then shaved it too.  Over Labor Day weekend, I realized, “hey, I have a few days before I go back to work, I could actually try to grow this thing.”

My considerations were “can I?” and “will it be amusing?”  ”Will it look good?” was not considered.  In answer to the first question, yes I could, though it wouldn’t win any awards.  To the second, yes absolutely, on my first day back at the office, I would think about it there on my face, and smile.  ”Isn’t it just so ridiculous?!” I would exclaim, in my head.

I decided to keep it until at least September 18th, when I’d see my parents.  ”Surprise mustache!”  Then I realized that the start of classes was just a few more days, and it would be fun to have it for the first day back, seeing everyone for the first time in 6 or 12 months.

Well, the first day of classes is over.  Anyone who could see it has seen it.  Now what?  My family was against it (my sister vehemently so), classmates just seem to chuckle (Alissa exclaimed “Oh my god mustache!” this morning before class), Jaster texted me immediately after seeing the pic, “The mustache must go.”  You’ve seen Jonesy’s thoughts.  But a close friend said it was sexy.  Personally I think it looks ridiculous, but I like it. 

Does everything have to be about looking good/cute/hot/date-worthy?  Does it seem like I’m trying to be a “hipster” or “alt” or whatever?  Maybe I can just have this silly mustache; maybe it can just be.

Attention grabbing title!  To start, yes I’ve read all 7 books, multiple times; yes I read the 7th in a single day, the day it went on sale.  (Yes I bought Harry Potter LEGO, but it was for the parts!)  I enjoyed the books and the movies and so forth, but the world it is set in, the sort of magic that is done, is the worst sort of magic there is. 

In the HP world, all of the romantic qualities of magic are taken away.  Want to learn magic?  Oh there’s a school, and oh its just like regular school.  And oh, you are either born with the ability, or you have no chance.  What’s more, it is highly hereditary; you would think that an author who rallies for the working class wouldn’t create a world where who your parents are is more important than your will, your drive, or your talent.

The HP world of magic is entirely closed off to outsiders.  Everything is expertly hidden, and should you ever stumble across it, your mind will be wiped clean.  I don’t see how erasing memories is any more “good” or proper than an Imperio curse.  Control a wizard, go to Azkaban; control a muggle, work for the Ministry.

There is nothing arcane about HP magic.  Grab a wand (bought in a store), say a word, magic!   There are magic schools, magic stores, magic jobs, magic houses, magic sports.  It’s all so mundane.  There is magic money and a magic bank!  They have the power to do anything their minds can imagine, yet they are still working 9-5 jobs.

The storyline itself isn’t much better.  Harry is destined, he has no choice.  He has the singular ability to fight the enemy, one arising from no action of his own; his mother did the hard part.  He’s not the smartest, the most driven, the most talented, the cleverest or anything.  He is simply the most Harry Potter.   I’m rooting for Voldemort.