So I came out to the new friend I've been stressing about coming out to.
Well, not exactly "Yo I'm gay, yay!!" More like "Well I dated a girl."

It went fine, just like I thought it would.
Her face kinda lit up, her cheeks went a little rosy, and she said, "Wow! I never knew you were into chicks!" Then she said that she thinks she could date a girl, which led to a discussion about how, for a lot of people, sexuality doesn't fit so neatly into a box that can just be labeled
"gay" or "straight."

But oh my god!!! Telling people is like the scariest thing!!! How many people do I have to tell before I get used to this???
And another thing: I work with her, and I didn't tell her to keep it a secret because that would be awkward for me, awkward for her, and most of all, it would make it seem as though it's something I'm ashamed of, which I so totally am not (most of the time). I don't want to advocate hiding who you are. Still, I can't help but feel nervous. Lately, not being out at work has left me feeling sort of squished, but that doesn't mean I'm jumping at the opportunity for everyone to know! I'm terrified!!

I'm also lonely. I wish I had a gay friend I could call and tell all this to, someone who would congragulate me for my bravery, knowing exactly what it's like. Unfortunately, the only queer chick I know is my ex, and we're not exactly on speaking terms.

Still, I'm proud of what I've done, even though I'm still a little freaked out. At least it's the kind of fear that makes me feel alive, which is a lot better than the soul crushing fear I feel when I hide my sexuality/dating life.

All I want is to be me. And I want it to be okay. And I want to find others like me. Not just on the computer(wonderful as you all are) but in real life.

You don't always realize what's in something till you allow it to settle. Think about angel white snow melting to a colour that should only be reserved for the bricks of strict boarding schools and the suits of boring, corporate types. Or of lake water collected, sitting in a bowl on the kitchen table. Look how the sunlight streaming through the curtains shows the little itty bits of sedement sinking to the bottom. There's one, and another, oh look a whole bunch of them. And now it's like a sunk flower bed. Who knew there was that much!

I've been fairly stationary lately, ever since university ended; and everything that had been floating around undetected like air pollution has suddenly made it very hard to breathe. So crying has become the substitute, which is confusing because for some time this year I was happier than I had been in a long while.

But now I'm stressed about my relationship with my mom - we're like two tectonic plates that can exist quite nicely for a while, which makes sense considering we're from the same slab of rock just split in two...until her edges start to grate mine the wrong way and bam! earthquake!

Then there's money, and the fact that we never seem to have enough, and therefore using any for my education, or even just for fun with friends, makes me feel guilty.

Lest we forget things like writing and creativity, let me add this: my brain, or at least the part that's used for stringing words together into good pieces of writing, is currently experiencing a bit of a saturation problem. One of these days I may open the refrigerator door only to find it puffed up and swollen in a jar of salt water. So that's where my creativity went, I'll exclaim. And unfortunately, if it's in one of those complicated fancy jars they advertise on 3am infomercials, I'll be unable to open it and pour out all the crap for lack of, well, creativity. Cooking lesson: never let things sit too long. You'll ruin them, like when I forget I'm boiling eggs until the water evaporates, the egg cracks, and air whistles through a crevice in the shell like an announcement on a pa system alerting me that i'm a awful cook.

Yet here I am sitting still in my life. I can't read or write or open up to new friends, or fininsh my pilot's license or apply for scholarships or register for university next year. I'm afraid my worries and insecurities will boil me over and I'll be left a lady in a looney bin, whistling crazy-people tunes out of my brokeness, alerting everyone that I could not handle it.
But I can because I'm strong and I know it. Thinking too much gives me temporary bouts of mild-insanity, but it can be remedied by a workout at the gym. Still, I obviously have some unfavourable issues floating around that I don't notice when I'm busy, if when all of a sudden I stop, they're right there collecting into something I can't ignore.

I'm not quite sure what to do.

Don't
Want
To
Be
Gay
Today.

I'm done my first year of university!!!!
And I've even had my very first failed lesbian relationship!!!
Oh, and I'm pretty sure I totally aced my last exam yesterday. woooohooooo!!!
I got some new lip gloss :))) i like sparkly and shiney things. i'm like that little gay boy in running with scissors
tomorrow I'm painting and re-decorating my room!!!
and....
.......
wait for it
...........
I FOUND MY IPOD!!!!! :-)
i hadn't been able to find it for like a month and was stressing out because those things cost $$$. then yesterday I pushed aside this bra that was sitting on my dresser ( I never wear it cuz it's uncomfortable, but one of these days I will cuz it gives me crazy cleavage) and tadaa!!! ipod!!!
so life is good.
that is all
enjoy your evening, morning, afternoon folks.

Hello all! I had a fairly good, incredibly interesting day today!
I slept in, made some scrambled eggs with cheese and herbs, watched a bit of Ellen, danced around listening to the radio while I brushed my teeth - typical morning. What made it interesting was afterwards.

Here's some background info: I'm in university. It's exam time. Life's crazy and stressful, especially when you're memorizing page after page of notes ALL ALONE; so I made plans to study with this girl in my English class (let's call her M) whom I've recently begun talking to (we live near eachother, and take one of the same buses to class). I think I briefly mentioned her in my last entry, but now I'll get into detail: she's Albanian from Kosovo, survived genocide, and came to Canada when she was twelve.

Also, on a less serious note, she is oh so extremely beautiful. Like take your breath away beautiful. All her features are perfectly extraordinary. She's got these big, expressive brown eyes framed by super long eyelashes. She has perfectly shaped eyebrows and a clear, beautifully pale complexion that contrasts magnificently with her dark eyes, eyebrows, eyelashes, not to mention her chocolaty brown hair that falls to her shoulders in cascades of ringletty curls. She does happen to be short, but her body is so petite and curvy it makes up for the lack of height.

But I'm getting sidetracked by my saphic tendencies. What I want to get to are the stories of the civil war she told me about.

From what I understood from what she told me, when she was 11 (she's 19, my age now) there was a civil war in Kosovo. Serbians were killing Albanians. Not just bang bang a bullet thru your head and you're gone. The Serbian police would rape women and girls before killing them (even the nuns were told to take birth control pills!), and children were forced to watch their parents being killed in horrible ways, such as being burned alive, before being killed and/or raped themselves.

As a little girl she would read about this in the newspapers and watch it on the news. She dreaded the day the Albanians would come to her neighbourhood; some of her cousins had been able to leave to Canada, but she and the rest of her immediate family could not because they didn't have enough money. Still, they all kept their suitcases packed, knowing they might have to flee at any given moment.

The day it happened started out ordinarily enough. Her mom was in the kitchen baking bread. Her dad was somewhere else in the house. She was in the backyard playing with her friends. brothers, and sisters - the front yard was off limits;too dangerous.

A neighbour came running with a warning. The Albanians were in a neighbourhood near by, heading their way! Clothes were layerd, suitcases grabbed, baking left, and they ran, leaving their home, their pets, everything they knew for an unknown future, for their only plan was to run.

Not everybody left. Her grandfather, who had survived world war 2, had lived in the house most of his life, and he was old, tired. He decided if he was going to die, he was going to die and that was that. Not able to bear leaving their father behind, two of her uncles stayed too.

The incredible thing is her grandpa and uncles all survived even though the Serbians did come soon afterwards and pillaged the whole neighbourhood. The thing about civil war is, you are connected to 'the enemy' unlike in other wars. The enemy is your former school teacher, teamate, friend. Such was the case with M's family and the leader of the Serbian police force that came into the neighbourhood. M's mother had grown up next to this man, and they had been close friends as children. When he came into the house and saw the father of his former childhood friend, he said "nobody touches this family!"

Others wouldn't have done this. And what are the chances that out of all the possible Serbians and all the possible neighbourhoods, this Serbian leader came to the neighbourhood of his childhood friend? It's part of the reason M passionately believes in God.

But back to M: she and her family managed to catch a bus and eventually landed in a refugee camp before being able to go to Canada. M says the bus ride was one of the scariest times because Serbians would regularly stop the bus and kill people. Everytime the bus would stop she would think "this is it. I'm dead." Luckily, she didn't see anyone getting killed because the bus was so crowded she couldn't see much at all. And the bus driver was Serbian, which gave him barganing power.

The refugee camp angered her, because even after all they had been through, the women still got into catty fights about gossip and whose turn it was to wash the dishes. Some people even used the extra bread they were given as pillows, to make themselves more comfortable. How disrespectful, she thought. I think what this goes to show is people are people, no matter what happens to them. The poor man is no more holy than the rich man. They just live thru different experiences.

But people also posess immersurable reserves of strength! Imagine living thru all that! And she was one of the lucky ones! Some children had to put one foot in front of the other, keep on eating, keep on breathing after watching as all their family members were raped, tortured and killed. The spirit has no limits. Limits belong to flesh and bone.

Of course, I've heard about things like this happening - newspapers, radio, tv. However, it's so different to actually hear it from someone who's lived through it. There is nothing about her that proclaims "I've lived through genocide" just like no one can tell who's been kicked out of her home for being gay, who's lived through abuse, who's just met his soul mate, who landed the great new job, who finally worked up the courage to speak to a crush. I don't necessarily think this makes us lonely, because realizing how we all are, in a way, closed books to other people, and how we all go through both difficult and ecstatic times, allows us to empathize.

Amazing story.

And yes, we did also manage to get A TON of studying done. I'm gonna ace this final. yah!

I want to tell my aunt about me - that I'm attracted to women.

I want to tell people at work. Especially G. She's the one I went to the bar with a couple weeks ago. She seems to really want to be my friend. Ditto for me, and we're getting closer. I hate feeling like I'm hiding something from her.

I want to tell M - my Muslim refugee English study buddy.

You know...my whole experience with Z(is that what I'm calling her?) was just...wow! Good wow, bad wow, just wow!
And I can't just not talk about it , about me, with so many people. I 'm not saying I want lengthy discussions. I just want to talk the way straight girls talk about their ex- boyfriends - you know, say casual remarks like:
"Ya, my ex, she was really into philosophy."
or
"I miss her, but you know, gotta move on!"
or
"God, she could be a bitch. Fuck her!"
or
"Yah, I really liked her.

No major therapy sessions. Just passing remarks.
And I want to be able to talk about girls with straight boys. You know, discuss their bitchyness, mysteriousness, how to impress them, their sexiness.

I'm sooooo bursting; and I don't think I can handle it anymore. I have nothing to be ashamed of, but by muting myself I feel like I do, and that I'm a weird freak.
You know, it's like if it cannot be spoken of, there must be something wrong with it.

But oh god, I'm terrified of telling people, much as I want to.

I don't want people's perceptions of me to be limited based on their narrow-minded views on sexuality.
And I don't want to be defined by it.
I don't want to be - That Gay Girl - ya know?

And I think, worst of all, I don't want people to stop liking me and start thinking there's something wrong with me, that I'm a freak because of it.

The terror was so strong last night I burst into tears. But it was only for a couple minutes. Guess it just needed to come out.

But oh god, it's just so utterly terrifying living in a society where gayness is so very far from being totally accepted.

Alright, I guess now I'll try and sleep.

Goodnight :)

Well...
last night I talked to my ex.
*cue dramatic music*
I hadn't talked to her in about a month, and was starting to feel like my own self again. But I missed her, and was thinking about how she never actually MEANT to hurt me, how she's confused, scared, not out to parents, not comfortable with being gay,etc. We're both around the same age, she's fun, cool, smart, and all that jazz, so I thought it would be a good idea to you know, contact her, have a normal, non-dramatic conversation, tell her i'm cool with her not being ready for a relationship, and then just talk like I talk with my friends.
Well um here's what I've discovered:
It's hard to just "talk like you talk with your friends" with someone you barely know, but have hooked up with. It like throws things way outa balance, and you're floating around, screaming in unfamiliar territory.
It's not what she said exactly, but what she didn't say, that hurt/bothered me. I realize I want so much more from her. I don't want to be the one making all the mature, let's get past this and be friends moves. Because I don't feel like getting rejected a second time, thank you very much.
I'm realizing that when I fell for her, I thought she was magnificent, out of this world, like a goddess. Well, she's fallen off her pedestal down to earth, and I can see she's just a fucked up human being like everybody else. She isn' t going to change my life, cure me of all my past pain, give me everything I want, ec., which sounds SO obvious, I feel stupid writing it. But what can I say? Getting naked with someone plays tricks with your mind.
So I think I am DONE making an effort with her. And as hard as it is, I'm just going to have to remember the brief, good time we had together, and move on. No wondering. No wishing. No imagined future romances.
I am a sexy, fun, funny, interesting, smart girl, and I need someone who treats me as such. Hoping that because I still partly think she's so amazing my ex is going to change and step up to the plate is only a waste of my time. If she wants my friendship, or anything else from me, she's gonna have to prove herself to me, and I'm not gonna sit around waiting for that day, because quite frankly, I doubt it's going to happen.
It's not that I'm giving up on wonderful love stories. I'm just not attatching the hope of the story to the wrong person.
So. Enough feeling down and sorry for myself. I have great friends, one of whom spent two hours talking to me last night (after I had talked to my ex) even though she had a class early the next morning. I'm going to appreciate them more, and you know, get out and have some fun!
I was able to make myself vulnerable - something I had never been able to do before with someone I was attracted to. I was honest, open, loving, and simply expected the same from someone else. So I have committed no wrong. In fact, in pushing so many of my boundaries, and in doing so many things I had wanted to do, but was scared of, I think that in time I will realize I am a bigger, stronger person.

I love my new puppy!
she's cute, and a perfect golden colour, and she's got big, brown eyes that look at me so adoringly! She has a cute little puppy bum that shakes from side to side when she climbs the stairs, and until recently she was scared of the stairs and would just stand by them waiting to be carried, which was sooo cute too.

in other news! why the hell am I even on oasis right now? good question self! it is incredibly, entirely stooopid for me to be doing anything but sleeping or term papering right now. oh gaawwd! my term paper!!! due in a couple days. haven't started. can't get this stupid link I need to work. i'm STRESSING OUT MAN!!! but at least i'm interested in the subject matter. and my prof is pretty young and really sexy.
I never had a crush on a teacher before. Never thought I would. Then, after having a highly emotional breakup talk with my ex, I walked into my lecture hall and saw her! sigh sigh.
You know what this means? I need to write the BEST term paper she's ever seen. I'll blow her pants off (pun intended) with my intelligence and she and I will live happily ever after. With my puppy of course.

yay! just got the link to work! and it's after midnight! what the hell am I still doing here??? i dunno.......gotta get up early, and i make a very grumpy, irritable, depressed tired person, so I am going to go hit the old fart sack.
to all you oasians:

good night
sleep tight
don't let the bed bugs bite
and if they do
slap 'em with a shoe
until they're black and blue

Outside the days are getting warmer and longer. Snow melts, freezes, unfreezes somewhat, breaks beneath my shoe filling it with water. I can no longer run to the bus stop for fear of slipping, and walking there is a game of hopscotch over puddles.

You can feel the tip of summer in the air. People don't wear coats when they line up in front of nightclubs. This makes a lot of sense for the women especially, because most of them have fake boobs to keep them warm.

It's disgusting.

When I dance I wear a t-shirt and jeans, or a tank top and jeans. This, of course, makes me the sexiest lady on the dance floor. And of course, I become irrisistable when I do my redneck impression - legs apart, pretend to adjust nonexistant package, a little scratch under the armpit, sligh nod of the head, and finally, to top it all off, a George Bush "Gawd Bless America!" in my most wonderfully Texan accent.

"It's scary how good at that you are," J tells me. She's texting while her ugly, fat boyfriend drinks a pitcher of beer. He really doesn't need it. His voice is slurred enough when he's sober.

I'm in a country bar for the very first time, and it is oh so very redneck Albertan! How can I not poke fun of it a little?

But I did have fun dancing with G. She - a girl I work with - is wonderfully cute, funny, original. And tiny. I feel like a giant next to her. I don't particularly like feeling like a giant.

Anyways, the morning after dancing, highballs, rednecks, and country music, I wake up at 11:45 and realize I am still terribly heartbroken.

There have got to be about a million ways to deal with heartbreak, only because having simply one is not nearly enough. The gals at the old country club were pretty in a generic, cosmopolitan magazine type of way. It made me realize how uniquely sexy Z is, and this of course made me miss her.

I jumped into a relationship all innocent, naive, and wide-eyed with wonder. Then I fell. It hurts. I want a band-aid, but they don't come in heartbreak size. Fuckerooni.

She made me feel big, big, big. With her, I was myself in a way I had never been myself before. I could do anything.

Now I cry...and cry...and cry. My eyes get puffy, and I can't even find my blue eyeliner. I eat. I watch tv. I don't do my homework. I go on the computer. I sleep. Then I wake up. And I cry some more. It really is amazing how many tears the body is capable of producing. I was planning on having hot lesbian sex right about now. Funny how things turn out, isn't it?

Alright, so I'm afraid our world is going down the shit hole. The polar ice caps are melting. The Athabasca glacier has receeded like 5km or something since the 80s, I think. They're saying that in the next 100 years it will probably disappear altogether. When I watch the coverage of big, huge pieces of this previously timeless, magnificent, ice structure breaking off and disappearing into the ocean I feel like crying.

Whenever we go to Jasper (that's in Alberta folks. And Alberta is a province in Canada) the signs are all there along the sides of the highways:
Athabasca glacier! Next left!
Athabasca glacier! 2Km!
Whatever is going to happen to all those lovely green signs? I'm being sarcastic, I hope you realize.

Then there are the oil sands, or should I just say hell. Because I've seen them on tv, and trust me, they look like how I imagine hell to be. Big smoke stacks, grey sky, black sands, metal factory pipes, brown water, no human life. The workers are always hidden from view. Maybe it's an artistic decision! Fits the mood of desolation and doom better, I suppose.

But about these workers, I've heard they're angry, tough, grumpy, not the sort you'd like to sit down and have a cup of tea with. I bet you they're all going to get sick, breathing in that toxic air and seeing nothing but ugliness everyday. It can't be good for the body or the mind.

The caribou are getting sick. Fish are dying. The Native people who live downriver from the oilsands have to choose between their culture/ their way of life/ the food they've eaten for generations, and the strange new cancers some of them are getting. It's terribly unfair.

The thing that confuses me though, is that like Anne Frank, I believe humanity is basically good. How can goodness cause so much destruction? And how can I make a difference and help the world when there are so many other things I have to do?

I guess I can write. Writing is so powerful. It spawns revolutions, religions, cultures.
And I can talk. I'm also quite good at that. Speak. Write. Hope for the best. And learn. The more I know, the more I can change things.
It's MY world. You have to ask ME before you can fuck it up. And guess what I'll say? No!

My mom, my youngest brother, and my brand-new little puppy got into a car accident this afternoon. No one was hurt. Well, my mom has a sore back, but she'll be fine. I'm just shaken up now, because it was so unexpected, and they're my family, I love them, and I don't want anything bad to happen to them, you know?
My family and my friends are the best people on EARTH, and I love them all soooo much!!! But the world is messed up and unpredictable and right now I just feel so overwhelmed, so scared of the big imperfect world infringing upon my little, comfortable capsule.
But I'm so grateful everyone was okay! Thank God!

So it's been a week since I've spoken to her. Her. I need to give her some sort of letter identifier. What hasn't been taken? There's Q and Z. Q makes me think of names like Queenie or Quentin, which makes me picture a snobbish, pretentious geek with a high nasal voice and dowdy clothes - you know, ugly flower print dresses, with frills, shoulder pads, and chocolate ice cream stains - the type of clothes you see miserable fat women wearing on the bus. I have no idea why Q evokes all these images. But she is definitely not a Q. She's more of a Z. Z is cool, sexy, enlightened, artistic - like her!
I'm not even sure if I'm mad at her anymore. What she told me a couple weeks ago, about how she's not into me, is apparently not true. She wrote me a letter + told me how amazing and beautiful I am, how she's sorry etc. But things are so fuckin intesely complicated and we can't be together and I don't know what exactly I'm feeling because all these feelings are so new to me. I'm just really tired, drained, sad.
I cried myself to sleep last night, and then I had the scariest nightmare. I've had nightmares for the past three nights, and they're all really dark, strange, twisted. I don't know where things like that come from. Such dark thoughts, in such a happy, cute, perfect girl. ha! it just looks like that from the outside.
so recap: I'm miserable
New topic: people are fucking idiots! Two weeks ago, Z and I were walking downtown holding hands, and this asshole passes us, sneers, and says really sarcastically, "Well, would you look at that!"
Yeah, would you look at that - two attractive women being themselves and doing what makes them happy! I mean, for goodness sakes, do I not have the right to hold hands with the girl I shared a special, intimate, magical bond with the night before?!!Wtf???? I mean, I see boy+girl couples all the time basically having sex in the street and nobody says anything. All we do is HOLD HANDS and it's a big deal?

Couples at IKEA holding hands as they excitedly look at furniture together.
An arm around a waist at the grocery store.
Snuggling up at the movie theater.

Will I not be able to do these basic, human things without commentary form assholes? I mean, I'm not trying to anger anyone. I'm not trying to make any sort of statement. I'm just being myself.

Being myself. Right now that isn't seeming so wonderful. I'm opinionated. smart, talented, generous, kind, loving, beautiful, sexual, incredibly open minded. I'm curious about all sorts of things in life, and I'm really adventurous. I think this makes some girls dislike me. Girls have always been jealous of me, and I've always wanted them to like me. It's a rather unfortunate combination. This + situation with Z = bringing me down.

I started the new year with so much energy, such high hopes; it's not even February and already I'm exhausted, which sucks because there were so many things I wanted to do this year. Here's some of the things on the list:
1. Buy a guitar, learn how to play it, and jam with some of my coworkers
2. Get better at spanish - join the spanish speaking club at my university, meet pretty spanish boys and girls, add to my ever-growing collection of spanish music.
3. Start running again. I used to be a really good runner. Then I broke my leg, and I haven't gotten back into it.
4. Take a lot of pictures with the digital camera I got for Christmas
5. Become a dj. Have my own show on our little campus radio station where I've already been volunteering for quite some time.
6. apply for this program where I go study in Montreal for the summer.
7. piercings
8. a tattoo (maybe)
9. Research archaeological digs to volunteer for sometime next year.
10. get serious about writing, go for coffee with this awesome university prof and published author that I know
11. be more informed about world issues. Speak up when I think something's unfair.
12. finally finish my pilot's license
So there you have it. So much I want to do. No energy to do it because my heart's a little broken. and I'm a little scared of all the assholes in the world.

But here's something I'm trying to remember:

I think YOU can do more harm to YOURSELF for NOT being YOURSELF, than the world can ever do to you for BEING YOURSELF.

So...
she tells me how much she likes me, how amazing I am, how attracted to me she is. I tell her how I feel about her, as well as a bunch of shit from my childhood I've only told my closest friends.
I sleep over at her place. We fool around. A lot. I allow myself to be more vulnerable than I've ever been before. Yeah, it's a little terrifying, but overall it's pretty magical. So magical in fact, that I almost lose my virginity to her. She wanted to have sex with me, and I wanted it too, but decided to wait since I didn't know her that well.
And thank god for that because today she told me 'she wasn't really into it' and even though it's obvious something's happening, and things are really intense betweeen us, 'she's only falling for me as a friend.' Who the fuck says that?
I don't know about you guys, but when I like someone as a friend, I don't try to fuck them.
I feel so confused, so used, so hurt, so completely mislead.
I come out, try and meet other glbt people, make myself so vulnerable...for what?
This?
I'm so stunned and hurt right now I can't even cry. I just don't get her.
And yeah...I feel used because guess what? I would really prefer only being intimate with people who actually LIKE me - surprise, surprise!
I want to find a nice girl who doesn't just want me for...hell, I don't even know what she wanted from me!
Honestly though, right now I feel so jaded, I think it will be really hard for me to trust someone again.
I...don't really have anything else to type; I just feel so incredibly horrible and bad about myself. Maybe I'm just not attractive enough, or funny enough, or smart enough. Maybe I just don't have whatever it is that is supposed to make people want to have a relationship with me.
This is stupid, I know; and trust me, I know it's not healthy to think this way. Usually I have more confidence. Just now, I feel like hell.

Okay, so it's 2:41 am. Last night I stayed up partying with my absolute bestest guy friend E, and I got shit to do tomorrow, so I really should be getting some shut eye, but nope! Here I am folks - I'm a fucking insomniac.

I've actually been meaning to write in here for quite some time now, but words are starting to feel a little mundane. Before, they helped me live, make sense of life, but now they're just a pale immitation, an attempt to explain the unexplainable. They don't do it justice.
What is 'it,' you ask?
Falling...
falling....
falling....
in a million discombobulated pieces, swirling down, in circles, spirals, hell, even up! And falling up doesn't even make sense! But nor does anything these days. And God, this ins't like the romances with straight girls I'm used to having in my imagination. It's oh so very, very, very real. Real is akward, messy, complicated, full of insecurities, fear, but wow! The intensity! The rush! The inexplicable bursts of joy! Real isn't airbrushed complexions and perfectly syncopated conversations. It's sitting in a coffee shop New Years day, slightly hungover, wearing khaki pants, hiking boots, and no makeup, staring across a tiny table at someone in a similar state as you, trying to sort out the meaning, significance of feelings that can't be sorted out because they come on like the wind before a thunderstorm, toss you around, make you realize that sometimes control over your life is only an illusion.

"I like you," I tell her. "I just wanted you to know that, if you didn't already know. I wanted to mention it before, but yeah..." and I stare into her blue, blue eyes, smile, stare at the table, the floor. She's staring at me too - asking, wanting with her eyes, but fidgeting with her body.

Fuck, I'm such a mess, so nervous. "I've...uh...never actually been in a serious relationship, I'm totally inexperienced, I don't really know what to do..." God, listen to me go. Shut up already and have a normal conversation.
Her gaze is powerful, her sky blue eyes calm. "It's okay," she reassures me, and I can tell she really means it.

But then things get awkward again.
She's not doing much better at this talking thing than I am. Both of us have been reduced to blushing, giggling junior high kids.

All of a sudden a happy, confident lesbian couple walks through the doors and sits down at the table right beside us. They're about twenty years older than we are, and they actually talk to one another, while our 'conversation' consists of awkward giggles and stares. We look at them. We look at us, and all of a sudden it's just all so fucking hilarious, and we're doubled over in fits of uncontrollable laughter.

I'm getting so tired writing this. I am seriously sleep deprived, but I can't stop. There's more I need to say.

Sometimes it just takes lying on a bed together for true feelings to be revealed. Crushing on her was painful because before that night we didn't even hug. Hanging out with her, I would feel this heaviness trying to burtst out of my chest. All I wanted was to reach out and touch her! God she's so touchable!

And then that night - our arms around eachother, her rolling on top of me, really craving someone's body for the first time, her cheek on mine, unable to separate my body from hers the entire night. No kissing, no sex, just bodies touching, and honesty. Because she told me how wonderful I am, how attracted to me she is, how scared she is. Like today, I couldn't really say much, but how I clung to her! How she clung to me in her hot basement bedroom, the darkness pressing in against us, making us braver than we usually are.

She's the queer chick I mentioned in my previous entries, the one I didn't think liked me in that way.

Guess she does. And I like her! Woah!

She's so cool compared to me. She plays guitar, has been in a band, been high, smoked, has more 'grown up friends,' has a sexy tattoo. And she's had relationships. Granted, only with guys, but she's into them too.
Me, I'm this naive, innocent, lesbian nerd!

I don't know if I'm ready for this, but fuck, I want her!

And I definitely won't be ready for anything if I keep up this pattern of not sleeping. So I will try and get some rest, but I'm such a bundle of nerves I don't know if I'll be able to!

I've been feeling somewhat down, stressed out. University's out for Christmas, all my term papers are handed in, and my exams are over so there's nothing to distract me. Not that I've needed distraction that much...I've actually felt incredibly happy for the first time in a long time. I think it stems from being more open about myself, trying new things, being around people my own age, and well, meeting another gay chick. That I think I may be falling for. Which is absolutely ridiculous because I only just met her. Anyways, I'm not going to do anything about it because like I said, we only just met, we're starting to become really good friends, I don't want to freak her out, and she likes someone else.
So yeah, liking her is making me feel excited, nervous/stressed all at the same time.

And then there's this: I really think I'd make a horrible lesbian. I dont look gay, I don't act gay, and I'm sorry for saying this, but to be perfectly honest, I really, really, really don't want to be gay. It makes it harder to meet someone, it gives people more reasons to judge you, it makes me feel weird, you constantly have to come out to people, yada, yada, yada.

I try to like guys, I really do, but I'm quite horrible at not being myself. It's like I have this inner compass that never lets me swing too far off from who I am, which is good I guess. It's just, I dunno....

I play these mental olympics in which I convince myself I'm straight, but as soon as I walk out my front door and interact with people, well, my feelings come slapping me in the face.

What's also confusing me is that up to about 15 I did have feelings for guys. So, um, where are they now? I don't make any sense.

btw jeff, what's with this spam filter problem?