2006-07-26
Still Tryin'
Writer's block is a bitch.
Every single thing I think of is kind of stupid or has already been done.
It's still bug season. Sadly, I made friends with some entomologists and at the beginning of our friendship, the lady big scientist was worried that I was too girly to allow bugs to live in my same space.
She was almost right - I'm too girly to be able to kill them because killing them would mean I would have to touch them and that's historically been a problem that I have with bugs.
I think she was split in her thinking after I made myself and accountable for my relationship with bugs. One the one hand, she was glad I didn't crush them with a platform shoe but on the other hand, she's a Derby friend and I think she is starting to understand how untough I really am.
You know, on the inside.
I dunno.
I've had a rough week or so.
This thing with Illinois and Arizona and what am I doing with my life versus what have I already done and trying not to think about what I could have done differently is getting to be a real mental burden.
Again.
Dude, it's old to ME, let alone to YOU.
I've got this idea to move to Indianapolis and it's a great idea, right? Closer to family, closer to my best friend, affordable real estate, good jobs, and it's a city that's manageable for me.
But then I get an email from an this kid from back East and he's telling me about drinking until 4 am how he went to the gay bar for New Years but his date was paranoid about getting trapped in a threesome, which make absolutely no sense on any level that I can comprehend:
1. What's wrong with a threesome?
2. How do you get trapped in one - isn't that pretty much the same thing as the illegal act of rape?
3. How do you, a chick, get trapped in a gay threesome? Unless you want to watch three guys going at it.
All I hear is this screaming mantra of no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no!
Like, I remember these things being what I did, you know? Drinking until 4 am with Steve Rakers and, while I never had a gay threesome I did waste a lot of breathe having to explain that it's okay to be gay to people who are probably nothing more than ignorant of how easy it is to be open-minded.
And I can't go back to that part of the country, I just don't think I can do it, even though I willingly admit the fantasy is alive for me.
I have these fleeting fantasy that if I did go back, I would be a big fish in a small pond and I would be a dish, you know? I've spent time acclimating to what amounts to the alluring West Coast standards and if I were to go back, my life would probably infinitely easier than it is right now. I could afford a house, I would have a more accessible network of family and friends, and I would still have friends with crash pads in Laguna.
The fantasy is that I would pull into some Midwestern City in a cloud of dust and everyone would stare as I unfolded from my car with a cowboy hat and a faithful dog. Everyone would gather around to hear stories of scorpions, snakes, and Mexico and I'd be like some kind of grizzled Mae West hero.
The reality is that I would go back and I would get caught in the trap of listening to people whine about a gay bar being threatening and I think my head would explode.
It's a GAY bar.
GAY people don't hit on chicks because GAY people are DUDES.
LESBIANS are chicks, GAYS are dudes.
Period.
Now that I have the patience of a meth addict and the relative sobriety of a normal adult to give that lack of patience some kind of twisted credibility, I am sure that if I had to listen to someone whine about being worried for his anus because of going into a gay bar..... my head would surly burst into flames and nobody in the immediate area would need to worry about their body parts because they would all be dead.
I'm pretty sure I would have to do a lot of drugs and stuff a lot of emotions using stuffed crust pizza and fake Mexican food. If it's covered in queso?
It ain't Mexican, papi.
Burreedo
Margareeeda
Chimychonga
Sawlsaw
Brewski.
I'm risking offending white people, my people, all over the place right now but man... I'm so not ready to live somewhere and look down on everything because it's not authentic or because my dinner companion can't pronounce the food with a Sonoran accent.
I'm not ready to live somewhere that allows for gay and lesbian to be the same thing.
I want a house and a family and stuff but I just don't know if I am ready to make the compromises I would have to make to go to a place where those things would most likely be more attainable for me.
I just don't know.
I think about this all the time, though.
arizonasarah at 3:54 p.m.