I'm still feeling like the old-fashioned gay boy. Which is funny, seeing as I still like women. Oy. There's a girl in my French class who I think thinks I'm cute or something. It's a little awkward, but I may be being paranoid. It may just be that she doesn't think I'm a freaky doom monster. There is another girl in said French class who I wish thought I was cute. She's really attractive, in a weird way, and I fail at talking to her. Oh well. There's time.
I ended up with a truly terrible haircut last weekend. I wanted a trim, and I ended up with a buzz-cut. The woman cutting my hair was like an epileptic penguin with scissors, so I asked her to shave it off, which she did. And now I look very JROTC. Theoretically, everybody loves a man in uniform, but, sadly, I have no uniform. Just a funny haircut. This is what happened:
Tis depressing. But an excellent excuse to wear hats.
Lately I've been longing to go sit on the beach in the rain, or swim in the ocean or something. Maybe it's like I'm seeking purity in the water. It's no river Jordan, but maybe it's the same impulse. I also wrote a rather interesting poem this morning about drowning and cold days. I felt very cold and shell-like this morning, like the wind was blowing through me, and whistling inside me, and the cold was loneliness and serenity and swirls of grey inside me. This feeling departed with the onset of P.E., where I ended up feeling very material indeed.
On a side note, in relation to P.E.: The teacher, Manny, is the most wonderful P.E. teacher ever. He's understanding, and doesn't do things without reason, and he's supportive and I have nothing but respect for him. Which is weird, given my usual opinion of both P.E. and its teachers. But I think this year should be different.
Today I think I had a minor anxiety attack. I haven't been eating well, and my slightly hypochondriac brain decided that I have an eating disorder, which, my rational mind and best friend tell me, is untrue. But I managed to freak out and get all jittery and shaky and messed up for about an hour. It might have been release, because I had one of those sedate, pedestrian days. You know it's bad when you freak out because you didn't freak out.
My trysts with hot drama class guy remain an elusive fantasy, confined to my insomniac hormonal mind. I really, really wish I didn't drool over him like this. It's very annoying, and distracting, and confusing and why the fuck does he have to be so gorgeous? It occurred to me the other day, that I get to go through high-school with all the dating issues of a gay guy, a straight guy, and a lesbian. Oy. Not fair. But oh well. It keeps things interesting. And I make a decent queen. ("Faaabulous!"). I don't understand my life.
I believe I have babbled sufficiently. Au revoir, dear ones.