Listening:
Tori Amos, Strange Little Girls
Tori Amos, Boys for Pele
Tool, Aenima

Eating: Chocolate, of course.
Location: My apartment. Still haven't heard from Squire. I guess that's no West Wing until next weekend. *Sighs*

Today's been slightly strange for me in part because I decided to write about a few things that have been on my mind for a while but I've been somewhat nervous about voicing, and because, sometime mid-morning, I remembered a dream I had that shows my brain still knows how to fuck with me.

I huddle in bed next to you trying to draw a little warmth my way. I feel you up and find your delicious warm curves, soft breasts and strong hips. You roll over and I'm surprised that you are she and the look of desire on your/her face is undeniable. I catch myself hesitating and then I remember: If you are she, then it's okey to fuck her. Because she is you. Cruel, no?

I went as quickly as I could through my work though I'm trying to work on my quality - it's going up, according to my last audit. But still got stuck on a site, more because of it's content than any difficulty to process.

It's also been a tough day because I'm looking at my finances for summer and they aren't looking to hot. I asked for yet another day in June off so I can attend Jester's wedding, but I'm going to have to ask him to buy the plane tickets for me...somehow...and then pay him back...somehow. I owe it to him though, eventhough I have mixed feelings about the relationship (If what Mme Black says is true, I *will* do everything I can to break them up. No woman deserves that, no matter how sane he seems the rest of the time). But for the most part they seem happy, and eager to get hitched, so who am I to question?

If I make it'll be my second trip to the midwest for a wedding, fourth overall. The first two trips were band trips when USC played Notre Dame at South Bend. Two-ish days typically spent freezing my butt off in Chicago, and then a drive into Indiana through country roads with trees the color of fire. South Bend is a compratively tiny town, but it sure has spunk to spare. And the Notre Dame Campus sure is pretty, though I didn't get to see much of it. The first game we played there was about the most horrible day of my life, when you think in terms of physical state vis a vis the weather. It started off in an ice cold rain, and then after half time it started sleeting. I couldn't keep my mouth piece warm enough to play. When we got back to the buses my fingers ached for a long time before I could get them to work well enough to take off my uniform. BTW - we lost.

The other time I went was to Indianapolis when my second freshman roomate got married. It was in June and slightly drizzly. Indianapolis at night (say two am) is straight out a post-doomesday movie, with tall stone buildings and wide streets radiating away from a spire surrounded by statues. And it's empty and deserted as all get out.

Wow I just read over that and realized that not only do I not have a point, I wandered *way* off topic. Sorry.

Anyway, so I don't have money and I'm gonna see if Jester can fly me out to Iowa. *Sighs*

But my original point is that I've been stressed and partly because of money but also because I've been thinking about sex, and not in a particularly fun, indulgent way.

I'm trying to keep my thoughts from going back into the circles they were going in earlier, but it's a little tough. They've made deep grooves in my brain and it's hard not to fall into them and harder to get out of them.

So, I'm bisexual and it's not something I think about too terribly much as a subject all on its own. I think about the people I'm attracted to. Occasionally I consider why it is that I'm attracted to it, but I try not to make a big issue out of the fact that I'm attracted to people of both genders. I detest any sort of bigotry that exposes homophobia, but I don't take personally so much as I am offended on behalf of other people. People who are actually gay. When I'm hanging out in public and Random Whacko with a Bullhorn walks by demanding we repent and tells us what terrible sinners the soddomites are, it takes me a while to remember that he probably thinks I fall under that definition somewhere. (uhh...not the ass..nope, no thank you) But that uncovers two very different things. 1) That I frequently am to be filed under sexuality: alternative, and 2) that female sexuality isn't to be shouted about if a woman is messing around with another woman, it's only worthy of Random Whacko with a Bullhorn's attention if a woman is messing around with a man, because of course then his fall from grace is her fault. Silly, Eve.

Okey, the alternative thing. It might be a generational thing, it might be a coastal-elitist thing, or it might be a college-or-fresh-out-of-college thing, but experimenting and even getting into close same-sex relationships for women just doesn't elicit quite the same extreme "Oh, God, NO!" reaction that it used to, and that male same-sex relationships still get. Why? Have we evolved? Are we fullfilling male fantasies everywhere? Did the sexual revolution really teach us that we don't have to put up with men's crap when a woman will satisfy us just as well if not better? I'm not convinced of any of these.

But one way or the other, the company I continually find myself in does not regard female bisexuality as abberant, maybe uncommon...but that seems to be the further I get from college. The other day I caught myself looking at a woman's behind and had to forcibly make myself look somewhere else before I started drooling. It's a shame if this is some kind of evolution that is making me act like any other pig-headed, ill-mannered lout of the opposite sex. Eehh.. but that's butts for you. I love my Molasses' ass and just can't get my fill of it. It's a wonder I don't bruise it.

Being bi means I still like Boys. Duh. It was Jester that said long ago that he believed that I could love a girl emotionally and spiritually, and love a boy physically and mentally but it would be hard to go the other way. Damn him for a prophet. Well it hasn't been impossible, but it *has* been work. Though, honestly I *really* like girls bodies, though I'm not really sure if I've truly been able to carry the day between the sheets, I definately love rubbing up against them. I can't entirely say the same for boys, it's not the same to hug or just make out/cuddle with a guy, but hopping straight into the sack or indulging in one night-type fantasies is extremely fun though I try to watch out for and water down any impulses toward that. Either I need to pay attention to where I am (work, driving) or I just want to (hanging out with friends). And there's nothing like having a crush on someone for their smarts to convince you that bodies just don't matter. But to that, I've never had a crush on a girl for her brains. Unfortunate, because girls minds are extremely interesting to me, if rather bewildering.

Getting emotionally tied to someone is totally different for me, and I can't ever say when something is going to happen a certain way or not. I've grown to love certain individuals over time, and at least once I've fallen in love without really being aware of it (well at least not till it was overwith). But mostly people I've been most closely tied to I've felt something that just seems to be warmer than what I feel for other people.... It's hard to explain it, and really I haven't tried very hard to figure it out. It just seemed to me that I was doing all the things that someone in love would do (including being really, really dumb) so I assumed that was the extent of how much I felt. The all-consuming fire that poets talk about has only come to me twice, for sure, when a certain someone is around, which is to say it's only been inspired by the presence of two different people at two different times in my life. It has sort of come up a couple of other times for other people, but that has always been a burning fire from some sort of rejection. arg... like I said it's hard to explain.

So...I'm in Love. And it's with a guy. The last time it was with a chick who was sorta trying to be a guy, just not terribly hard. But now it's a guy, and what a heck of a guy is My Molasses. I'll try not to gush too much, but I keep remembering just how much I don't deserve him. *sigh* Yay!

But to stay on track...sometimes...just sometimes a cold wind blows through me it has a cheating name and moves in cheating directions and makes me think cheating thoughts. I don't wanna cheat, either in mind or action. This has been a source of some slight consternation lately, especially when I wake up having dreamt of someone else. Maybe it makes sense when it's women...I miss them, I make no secret of that. But missing screwing around with women is not nearly the same thing as making a determined effort to find a woman to screw around with. For the first thing, that ain't easy. And secondly, there comes a part when one has to ask the practicality of this. One relationship is enough freaking work, thanks. Trying to keep after a chick to keep her shit together can be a full-time job and I've never really liked it. Maybe I'd like it more if I were getting some in return...but it seems doubtful.

I don't think of Molasses as not enough. As a person, as a lover, as my Other, he completes me. I need to find a way to trim away the unncessary things, the thoughts that distract, the impulses that subtract. Works of art initially go through a growing phase as more and more is added until the size is sufficient. Then they go through a secondary phase where extraneous things are illiminated, pared, sculpted, deleted and cut away until only the finest work is left exposed and glorious.

I think I'll have a smoke. Maybe a cold shower.