Cutting class and other naughty activities

Friday I skipped all my classes as planned. My attention span is currently weaker than a fat kid's resolve in front of a free waffle cone... rocky road. Double scoop.

Weirdly, I did spend the morning laboring in productive activities such as cleaning my apartment thoroughly, doing laundry, washing the dishes, even dusting my ceiling fan blades.

I'm such a June Cleaver.

Minus the pearls and overly submissive attitude. On second thought, I bear no resemblance to June Cleaver whatsoever. I would have hidden a Rohypnol® in the mayonnaise of Wally's neatly diagonally sliced ham and cheese sandwich... what a dreamboat!

They say he got really fat in later years

Since I still don't have a job in Brazil I'm thinking about working as a professional domestic servant. I'm good at household chores because my mom used my brother and I as slave labor while growing up. Could be fun...

Spazzing out

I'm so restless.

Yesterday I walked out of class so that I didn't start screaming, "this is bullshiiiiit!" [imagine me screaming it like a banshee, the voice rising up towards the end to a wale higher than human hearing] I tried to take a nap but stared at the ceiling until I bolted up to the Rec Center to manically do a leg work out involving super sets of squats and squat jumps. Suffice to say, the glass tower of my peaceful, resigned, make-the-best-of-it exterior is showing some cracks these days.

I tried to go out and socialize later, but all I did was eat a ton of pizza and drink disappointing strawberry-flavored beer. It was nice to see people, but my conversation was as sparkling as flat Mr. Pib. I fell into bed only to wake up at 5 am with bad gas and cotton mouth. Screw. That.

Nevertheless, I feel like I have something to say to you guys [something very important], but it's apparently going to take another day of procrastination to distill the message into words.

So this is a teaser.

sleep deprivation:three pots of coffee:major purchases

Here's another: Friday I plan to skip all my classes. It's going to be epic.

More later...

On a lighter note [heaven knows we need these more often what with pirates and all]:
I have been rather bemused lately by the realization [reminder?] that many people with a seemly demure, straight-laced exterior can often gloss over the most confused, multi-faceted sexualities. It's comforting not only for the interest of discovering a unique human experience, but also for the simple assurance that no one corresponds with our culture's almost asexual standards of "purity."

And that's okay...

Anthropological interest aside, I do look forward to living somewhere with a little more integrity, a little less self-loathing and [above all] something more interesting to talk/think about than the asinine gossip of a town whose most memorable event in the past year was the completion of the construction on Texas Avenue.

Trying to be cool, I fall from grace

I knew we were in for it, when our instructor sauntered over, a smug look on her face and two Santa Claus hats in her hands. We were waiting for her in Spence Park where she had crypticly instructed us to meet for Health class last Wednesday. So great was our apathy (verging on self-hatred), we started to bond as classmates for the first time since January.

Fortunate, since we were paired off into teams and informed we would be playing Capture the Santa Hat in lieu of our normal workout. Oh happy day.


My strategy to best avoid any unnecessary physical exertion was to make an early haphazard break for the hat, get tagged, and saunter off to jail from where I could view the action and make snarky comments about the players. I was in my element: I had an audience, I was bored and feeling highly "above all this childish crap." [Ironic since I spent yesterday morning blowing bubbles in the park with Alycia]

No more is required to get my caustic creativity going.


Why do I never realize, as I become more of an outspoken asshole, I am actually stacking on layers of negativity to the lameness of the situation?


I got my comeuppance though... Oh boy, did I ever. As she took role at the end of class, a random bird (apparently flightless) started squawking hysterically. I mean this thing was having a conniption fit. So I kicked at it and yelled to make it shut up (I was really thinking I was cool... remember, in my element).

Weirdly, the bird didn't really move at first, but continued squawking now joined by the shrill protestations of several classmates. I had kind of a sinking feeling as I finally spotted the four, well-camouflaged eggs tenderly nestled into the mulch that momma bird had been guarding.

Fail.

As I rode away on my bicycle the bird's desperate pleas for mercy still ringing in my ears, two of my female classmates shot me death glares... "bird-kicker." I could almost hear their vaginas snapping shut to me forever... kind of like a bear trap.

Nonplussed, I rode forward to ride like an eager little puppy starved for approval next to a male classmate with whom only minutes earlier I had enjoyed a lively rapport. I mocked the bird and my classmates' disdain only to be tolerated briefly and dispensed with. Smiling self-consciously like I was back in junior high [shudder] I rode off to take a hot shower and contemplate my fall from grace.

It's amazing how quickly you can move from cool, edgy guy to Satan's least favorite dickhead just for overlooking some freaking eggs. Geez...

A danger to himself and others

In my health class today I took a quiz, which informed me that I'm sleep-deprived.

As though hitting the snooze button repeatedly, falling asleep in the shower, scalding my hand while making coffee, missing my first class and showing up to my second jittery and unshaven couldn't have already indicated that...

When I made this schedule last semester, which includes a class at 8:00 am three days a week and frequent work shifts until 3:00 am, I remember having the conscious thought... sure it might be hard, but I can do anything for four months.

In a way, it's kind of fun going throughout your days on a series of catnaps. It's like alcoholism for the poor man! True every time I get behind the wheel of a car, mothers all over College Station collectively shudder, but then again, who are we kidding? They'd do that even if I got a solid eight hours.



I think I was English in a past life.

Life mandates I not be a shithead [part 1]

Today I set out from the house little knowing that I was going to become an activist against Domestic and Sexual Violence. After decorating a "These hands don't hurt" tapestry, I chose not to wash off the paint on the spur of the moment. Everyone I talked to asked what the hell happened to my hand. (A few thought at first, I had injured it in an accident involving battery acid) I then would "swing in" to encourage them to think about this important issue.

I'm writing about it here to do the same.

Important? Pressing? This issue in all it's stunning, dark complexity has screwed up my own life and the lives of many of my friends and family.

The facts are stunning. According to the Texas Department of State Health Services two million (2,000,000) Texans are sexually assaulted every year.
In 2006, the Texas Department of Public Safety recorded 186,868 family violence incidents. But the true numbers for these crimes is, in fact, much higher due to the frequent reluctance of victims to come forward. The same report notes that 74% of Texans have either directly experience domestic violence or know a close family member or friend who has.

The phenomenon is incredibly complex - an amorphous mass - a bubbling cauldron of gender, power, love, psychologies, histories, mental illness, emotions, learning, culture, shame, desire, and on and on and on.

And then... some people are just incredibly evil and shitty.

In my view, we cannot return violence for violence no matter how angry we are. Rather we must work tirelessly to bring these [often men, but by NO MEANS always] to justice - what does that even look like?

JUST AS important, we need to empower people to deal with the immense burden of victimization. Shame. Depression. Low self-worth. Dysfunction. Often the victim is young, poor and has few resources for obtaining help. Self-destructive behavior and deep emotional damage can dog a victim for many years after the abuse.

Without help in facing the grief and pursuing healing, a victim's life and the lives of those close to the victim can long be overshadowed by a legacy of trauma.

Finally, we must ask ourselves: where is this coming from? What is it about our culture, our society, ourselves that so many people [often the very weakest and most defenseless] are being used, violated and physically attacked - right here in Jesusland??

I think this is part of a broader impatience that has been growing in me against the pricks of humanity.

That said, I'm also becoming aware that I myself need to make sure I don't turn into a violent, arrogant asshole with little respect for others and even less regard for their feelings. We need to direct the anger against the evil bastards not set the machine gun on "spray mode."

Last night I publicly called a guy a "fucktard" for telling a [pretty disgusting] racist joke. Justified? Probably a little much... well, it was kind of funny...

On the positive side, I would like to also become more attune to how I can love those I come in contact with. healing. freeing. teaching. happiness. peace. security.

It's a noble project (a lot more noble than some of my last experiments at least).
Let's see whether virtue is, in fact, its own reward. I'll put something together, try it for a few days and let you know how it goes... How to be virtuous in College Station... hmmmm... intriguing.



Yep... That's the police substation. This is probably not a good start.













On a lighter note:

Check out Wheat's album "Per second, per second, per second... every second."

I love this band because their music is delightfully creative and "free." It's great for playing in your car [windows down, radio blaring] on a gorgeous, sun-soaked spring day.

Especially listen to Don't I hold you, This rough magic, Closer to Mercury, Some days, Go get the cops and Breathe.

BAD FRIDAY!

I had to work a double on Thursday and if I hadn't been able to sleep in, I might have gone on a real rampage.

Well-rested notwithstanding, I stumbled again on the dangers of this town when you have nothing to do and all your friends have left. It is possible to arrive at place of such boredom and loneliness that is demonstratively harmful to your psychological well-being.

Coping mechanisms:

1. The Movies... The theater is really really cheap here, but is ineffective if there's simply nothing good playing.

Two Christmas breaks ago, I think I rented every movie in Hastings. You get reward credit the earlier you return your movie. Sometimes I would make multiple trips in a single day.

I can't afford Netflixx but my friends who have it watch more movies than Roger Ebert.

Danger: you rent something depressing on accident and start feeling there's no goodness in life.

2. "Staying occupied" - read! write! clean! draw! sun tan! workout! JUST DO SOMETHING Problem: eventually, you reach the point of "who are we kidding, seriously?"

3. Drink
Danger: ***

4. Yesterday I tried... embracing every vice I could think of in the hopes that cheap thrills would divert me enough to make it to work.

Obviously, I did absolutely no school work whatsoever.

I was contemplating gorging myself on low quality pizza, but I knew my stomach would later take cruel revenge (probably while at work - there's no stall on the toilet in the men's restroom at O'Bannon's). Besides I needed some stuff, so I decided to see how much merchandise I could shoplift from Walmart.

Now, I am in no way some conscience-lacking, sticky-fingered rebel child out to fuck the man! Poor and bored, I just needed some new sunglasses and headphones. (This is my rationalization)

But it's true! The last time I shoplifted some condoms that "little voice" kept whispering in my head for six months until I returned to pay for them. We'll see this time around... but that was HEB and this is quite possibly the most evil corporation in existence. There was an element of aggression in my crimes.

Anyway, as I pulled up this silly girl was getting arrested for shoplifting... tee hee... I'm glad too, this way my adrenaline really got to pumping! I hope she learns her lesson!! Honestly, kids these days.



Approaching the self-check out (aka Mr. Pleasetakeourshit), I briefly met the gaze of the manager. I wonder if she read it in my eyes... I'm... about... to...

Sneakily, I put the glasses into the bag behind some hand soap... one fluid motion... and charged the bell peppers ($1.98/lbs) as bananas (44¢/lbs)... FREEDOM! I made it out the door!

Elated at all the money I saved, I skipped to my car [parked in the handicapped space... I was going for the gold] leering arrogantly at the police, slouched on the storefront wall, staring aimlessly into space out of their beady. little. eyes. "Want me to steal a donut for you guys?"

I guess it wasn't all gravy... the headphones kind of suck. Wouldn't it be funny if I returned them and got store credit!?

I don't think pursuing a life of debauchery is sustainable over the long term, but as a tourist into the realm of corrupt morals I found it added some cheap thrills to an otherwise mind-numbing day in College Station.

The New Frontiers

Please check out this Dallas band. They only have two EP releases and an album entitled Mending. Unfortunately, they had their last show this past January. The music is uniformly beautiful and the lyrics are strangely wise and moving.

I'm going to be working a double today, so if you're in College Station come by the bar and talk to me.

Go love someone today because I'm trying to lay low.

Spring is best sprung together

Yesterday, Sam and I wandered all over campus, decidedly aimless and wired on coffee. In celebration of Gay Awareness week, we were there to be seen. Was it a political act? Not really... it mainly was just a fantastic day. Texas A&M is ugly and drab in many ways, but when you look down the street lit by spring sunlight filtered through thousands of fresh green oak leaves... there is more than classrooms, more than students, more than even memory.

I do suggest exploring campus:

1. During a school day - People wander about in a daze. It's as though you were watching hundreds of opaque bubbles floating about. I seriously recommend attempting to make eye contact with everyone who passes you. Your very presence as a wild card (even if you're one of the herd on other days) will act as a foil to routine. This will almost inevitably make you feel mischievous and subversive. And who knows where that will take you...

2. At night - You might not think it would provide as rich a source for observation, but the campus at night speaks to me just as much as during the day. It's just that the dialog comes from the buildings and trees themselves. The dark and deserted buildings are intimate and conspiratory.

After sending the night in the MSC and climbing over every square inch of it over the years, I feel like an old friend is passing away now that they are remodeling it. Rudder tower actually complained to me once about all the students that nap there. He said he didn't mind me so much... I don't drool.

3. Pond hopping is a must before you leave. Play in the dirty water, sit on the jets, slide down the steps and proclaim your vitality as a young twenty-something year old.

***

Later I enjoyed drunken tanning with Brittany. We then proceeded to get sexy and model said sexiness in the bluebonnets on the median of 2818. Pictures to follow. Soon we're going to shoplift Aviator style sun glasses from Walmart and more sexiness will follow. Seriously... I might have to post a warning.

Thence to Caffe Capri for long overdue deliciousness and Revolutions to add layer of Irish coffee and self-conscious hippie artsiness. It is possible to be senuous around here; take it for what it is...

Student Socializing - We then shifted gears entirely and revealed in carefree tea drinking, karaoke and awkward head-dancing. This is also known as student socializing. You're not going to have a meaningful conversation (only convo); however, it is genuinely nice to see people you like, hug them and bob your heads to the music together. Besides, the mildly scandalous (and I mean mild) social milieu provides an edge slightly more entertaining than sitting on your couch, watching comedy central and turning in early. Hey, just think about it. OMG, DO YOU THINK THAT GUY IS GAY? NO, DAVID.

We sang "Faith" by Limp Bizkit. Well, Brittany did. Aaron sang the George Michael version and I was just there to look hot, which I accomplished with my sexy stare and sweet dance gyrations (see post to follow!). When the scroll got to the "Get the F*** up!!" part I did join in. Oh boy! I positively love screaming profanities - well, anything really - in public!

I guess this post is really about letting yourself be free to create and find magic... even in such a decidedly mugglian environment such as College Station.





You gotta KEEP FAITH!!

the fundamentals of fundamentalism [and impromtu socializing]

First of all: Sam Roberts. Not only is he attractive as only a scruffy indie rocker can be, but his soulful, almost blasé crooning is yummy. Check out "Them Kids," "Detroit 67", "Lions of the Kalahari" and "Brother Down."





Yesterday I was alone most of the day. I read quietly. I sipped coffee and I watched a delightful movie named "Latter Days."



The acting is not the best [as you saw from the trailer], but then again it's not distracting either. The story raises the thorny issue of religious belief and modern romance in a way that was meaningful to me. The situations and the story line ring true to life. I felt like they represented the conflicting loyalties and pain that a gay man raised in a deeply religious, deeply homophobic environment experiences... *wink.

Perhaps it was the cute guys, perhaps the happy ending after an appropriate amount of suffering and angst... I don't know, as far as "gay" movies go, I'd recommend it.

If I had to choose between my homophobic family and the love of a lifetime with a gorgeous, sweet guy... it wouldn't be much of a choice. Thank God, my parents didn't reject me; though things were pretty intense there for about a year.

I suppose what I would shout out to all the gay young people in Baptist churches, Mormon churches, Muslim mosques, Orthodox Jewish synagogues: Please, reach out and embrace a life free of the fundamentalism and hatred that surrounds you. To do so is not to reject your faith but to enrich it.

Honestly, I don't think I ever could love God and desire intimacy with him until I got it through my head that he loves me just the way I am and wants me to enjoy human love. I don't think I ever understood what it meant to be a good person until I stopped equating virtue with conformity to a conservative social vision. It'll be hard; I'm not denying it, but this is your life! Embrace integrity! Embrace love!

Though my darling cat Gracie is lovely company [she's a compulsive biscuit maker], I eventually fled the house to go read and have a few quiet beers at O'Bannon's. Little did I know that I would encounter the vet school crowd and find myself dancing on the speakers at V Bar. Upon return to O'Bannon's, the place was packed out - I ended up meeting up with the lovely choir ladies and Ms. Coleman and the night was off... !

Next thing I know, I'm helping Brian and Luther pick up glasses because the tables were a forest of glass and nasty. I hope I helped and didn't just get in their way. Flip flops not being the most appropriate footwear for busing tables, I did manage to cut my heel; the blood elicited a bear guffaw from Brian, a gesture of caring that totally made my night.

So, in honor of the fact that God is neither homophobic nor keeping a heavenly checklist of my acts of devotion, I am electing to skip church and relax this morning.