June 1999

Well, let's try this for a while, and see how it goes. To give you a brief summary of my existence, it goes something like this: I was born, in and around September of '82, and I've lived on Long Island, all of my life. Yes, this means at most I'm approximately an hour outside of Manhattan. It's okay, I guess. For those of you swearing you'd be there every weekend, trust me, its harder than it seems. I live in your basic suburban town. I go to your basic Catholic school. Do I consider myself Catholic? Not by a long shot. In fact, I would consider myself sort of against the Catholic Church. It's corrupt and ridiculous. But that's another topic entirely.

As for what my topic is exactly, I've been thinking about this for a while. Most people start with how they figured out their sexuality. Honestly, I grew up being attracted to both sexes. What I understood was that this was not necessarily normal, but to be completely honest -- I just couldn't understand why not. There were these two sexes, both had different and interesting qualities, and both appealed to me. Why wouldn't that be natural? As for realizing there were words for people like me, bisexual... I dunno, I guess I always just took the good with the bad. So, what's my topic? I'll start with something everyone feels and experiences... and something everyone loves to read about: love.

See, I made a boo boo. I fell in love with a straight girl -- who, unfortunately, and much to her dismay, is one of my best friends. The saga started sometime around June of 1998. I realized I had a crush on her. It's not normal to stare at your best friend's arms and wish they were wrapped around you. Or to stare at their lips and wonder that they feel like, or their mouth and wonder what they taste like. It's just one of those beginning signs. Around August, I realized it was slightly deeper than a crush, and by October I knew the truth. I was completely in love with her.

Now you're thinking, okay, great. You're in love. But no, remember, this is with a straight girl. And I, I was so weak I felt I had to tell her. Don't ask me why, don't ask me how. But for some reason I decided to come right out and say... yeah, I love you. Jesus, was that awkward. So where are we now?

We make an awful lot of small talk. Moral of the story: Stick to your boundaries, and always remember to walk the dog. Ha!

No seriously: What's the point right? Well, the point is I know your pain, at least to some extent. So, if you'll allow me to, I intend to continue on this trend of writing a column for this site. It seems the only place one can come anymore. If you want me, you can apparently get me, as I sit here staring at AOL. I'm pretty sure my address is down there, if not, look for my email in other articles. G'bye and good night.

Don't forget to tip your waitress.


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