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February 2016

Party like it’s 2016

In about a month, I have a pretty momentous anniversary coming up. It’s not the kind of thing one would usually celebrate, being that upon first glance it seems to be a pretty big negative.

On the other hand, I’m pretty happy with how things have turned out since the event in question transpired, and that’s kind of worth celebrating.

So maybe a party wouldn’t be entirely inappropriate, eh?

Anyone want to come? I’m thinking shawarma…

Life on the edge…

I made a big pot of soup yesterday. My aunt next door also made a big pot of soup yesterday. We traded leftovers today.

My life was much edgier when I was younger.

But I eat a lot better now.

So, about sex…

I don’t really have it these days and here’s why:

  1. Let’s be frank. There haven’t been a lot of offers. Turns out chunky, greying, middle-aged librarians are not really many people’s fetish, despite what they told us in library school, and this is particularly true among impossibly young, scruffy alternaboys. It was much easier back when I was an ill-tempered thirtysomething alternaboy who could devote much more time to the quest (and was in close physical proximity to venues that encouraged said quest). And dating/hookup apps are just out of the question. That said, I have had several offers, but…
  2. I can’t really bear the thought of having sex with someone I already know and like. The familiarity aspect sort of freaks me out for whatever reason, and I’m also leery of doing something that might make a friendship uncomfortable. Yes, friendship trumps sex for me now and the FWB thing sort of creeps me out. Go figure. For some reason, the only sex that seems appealing right now is of the anonymous and/or NSA variety, but…
  3. Again, that’s easier said than done at this point in my life. See #1.

So basically, the kind of sex it might be relatively easy to have is not really appealing and the kind of sex that seems relatively appealing is not something I could likely have.

Add to this the fact that I get nervous at the thought of bringing random strangers into my house (because they’re scary) and of bringing friendly, nice boys into my house (for fear they might want to spent too much time there) and you see the conundrum that really isn’t that much of a conundrum. So I just said the hell with it. I’m surprised how much I don’t care, kind of like when I got rid of the cable. Maybe the difference now is that I actually have other hobbies I didn’t have twenty years ago.

Or maybe I’m just old. I always promised myself I would have some dignity when I hit middle age and wouldn’t be one of those creepy old fags who always chased around boys half his age. And I’ve pretty much succeeded, despite the fact that I work on a fucking college campus.

But I kind of don’t feel like I’m missing much anyway…

Not my girl

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New Tokyo Police Club. They’ll be here in April, thus permitting me to see them for the second time and to provide a friend with a good birthday present. Plus, as an (honorary?) child of the 1990s, how can I not love an EP entitled Melon Collie and the Infinite Radness?

Letting go

When a relationship ends after almost ten years, it always involves lots of emotion.

Let’s face it. I got dumped. He basically told me it was over and that there was no need for us to see each other anymore. I was just redundant and irrelevant to him at this point. Of course he gave me the standard line about how he’d always be there for me if I needed him, etc.

And I’m finally OK with it now.

I can get by without him.

In fact, most people live completely happy and healthy lives without an oncologist.

Respectfully sumbitted

1 Comment

perry

Raymond Burr for SCOTUS. Why?

  1. He’s a gay Californian, which would make the left happy.
  2. He’s not a lawyer but he played one on TV, which would appeal to the Trump contingent.
  3. He’s dead, which would satisfy all the people who despise “activist judges.”

Just a thought…