Wednesday, March 10, 2010

Hellllloooooo :)

So, first blog is like the first date? Right? And I am horrible at those, so I'll prob just trash this too, but we'll see ;) So, what to say to all of my non-existent followers. I know! Why am I here? Simple, my friends got too tired of hearing my life story every day, which seems kind of sad to me, because my life really is interesting, fast paced, full of wonderful (sometimes exaggerated, I'll grant that) stories. But that's what comes of having boring friends I suppose. So, I figured, I'll throw it all up on-line and someone who has nothing better to do can take a look! Soooo... the name, right. Well, yeah, I'm in college and yep I'm queer, but that really has nothing to do with anything, I just couldn't think of another name, and all my friends call me the collegiate queer, so, there you are.

I'm at a university in the south. Yeah, the south, now you understand the "Non Fabulous" part right? My college life is hot, sticky, and full of sweaty men, and that is never in my room, no, that is outside almost every day of the school year as people walk to class. No, there are only a handful of other gays in my city, and they are all either arrogant, fabulously beautiful (and therefore not looking at me), or old enough to be my grandfather (which don't get me wrong, I think old gays are adorable, but I can't date one). I do have a man, I'll introduce you to him latah. Oh, and to give you a mental image, I am like a 7 on a cold-nonsweaty-nonwindy-well-lit-hair-friendly day. Not fat, but tooooooo lazy to work out therefore not built.

Let me give you an idea of my day, using, oh IDK, um... oh, how about today! Yes, that will work swimmingly! Ok, so I decided lately that I need a new suit, because all fashionable men should have a three piece tailored suit in their closet (along with their frat boyfriend, who has seemingly all but chained himself there, but I think I'm going to be pushing him out soon... need some space for the suit). So, I went out on a hunt. It should be noted that even though I am in the south the only things I hunt for are clothing, good deals, and gorgeous, rich men. Lo and behold, I found it. Yes it was perfect. But (yes there is always that but), I then needed a new pair of shoes. Again on the hunt. And found them! Perfect day right? No. Dress socks (which are impossible to find in the right color to match one's tie, which is naturally imperative) had to be found. So, again on the hunt. Alright, confusing pause in the story coming... now.

Boyfriend. Yes. He's a special character. He's gay. Very gay. But he is also in a fraternity. Yeah, fraternities are the oppressors of young gay college men. They pull out all the gay stops for their hazing ceremonies (which I can just imagine must have confused the hell out of the pledge master, as my "bro" must have just loved them), but then will beat you the hell down (and or just pressure you out I guess) if you are gay. So, technically I have a boyfriend, but we don't go on dates in public in the city, or hold hands in the theater, or go dance together in a club, and he will only spend the night in my dorm room if my roommate's are gone and/or getting blazed. Do I like him? Yes. Am I keeping him? Debatable. Just listen to the rest of my rambling story.

Aight, back to the mall. So I am skipping along (ok, not really, I'm not that gay) to Banana Republic (God's little gift to my red-neck, camo clogged, southern mall). And who do I see? Kissing a girl (I'm inclined to scream "SLUT" at this point, but I don't know who it would be directed too)? Yes, my fraggot (Frat faggot, I'm sure you would have figured it out, but thought I would save you several potential minutes). So, I swallow the drama, just building up inside, and walk by. Slooowwwlllllyyyy. He looks over as they are laughing about something. Looks at me, and (he's lucky I noticed this) turns whiter than a republican convention. I just smile and say, "Yo, 'sup brah", and walk by. I the girl ask, "Oh is he one of your brothers". No answer. He just says by, and runs up next to me.

Ok, he's gorgeous. Blond hair, blue eyes, gold skin, white teeth, fit, wonderful legs and never has bad breath. But, looks aren't everything. He hurriedly started explaining things. He even called me "babe" in public, forgetting I guess that I think it is ridiculous when people in love call each other "baby" or "babe", I mean I absolutely hate it. But, still, affection in public, it was enough to make me listen for a second. He told me he had to find a date for this frat thing. And he was getting this girl to help me. Because she doesn't go to our school, and therefore no one would know her, or know that he dropped her after that night. So why the kiss? Well, things had to be done to "seal the deal". A little flirting here and there. So, I told him that I would hate to be holding him back from a straight life. I would be horrified if he was just being gay because he had fooled around with me once and didn't know how to get out. But no. He assured me that it was just for this one night. That he just had to take her to the party to have a date, and look like one of the bro's, and yeah, he'd have to make out with her a little, "but it's gross I promise, nothing like kissin' you babe."

Well, we talked about it over lunch, and I let him know just how awful it made me feel to be in a relationship, in which I just had to be a big secret visited on weekends and sometimes for lunch during the week. And he kept on with the, "once we're out of college" blah, blah, blah b.s. But then the most wonderful thing happened. THE MOST FREEKING WONDERFUL THING IN THE WHOLE WIDE ENTIRE EXTENSIVE WORLD!!! I told him that the only way I would consider letting this slide is if he kissed me right there in the middle of the mall. A right proper kiss at that. No little peck or some shit like that. And he stood up, right in front of me, and reached out his hand. I held it and stood up, and he kissed me. Right there in public. In the midst of all the old people out shopping. He kissed me for a full hour it felt like, even though it obviously wasn't. And he only stopped when some old man walked by and said, "Fags". At which my brave, courageous, apparently loving fraggot jumped backwards like he had been shot and nearly passed out in his chair. But still. The moment was special for me.

That night, he also told me he decided to go stag to the party. So I suppose all is well. Maybe he'll venture a little further out of the closet each week. One can only hope.

And I never did find dress socks.

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