Wow.

So I went to the gay club last night, and it was… not quite what I was expecting.

I met some more of Jack’s friends, and holy shit… these people have fucked up their lives. I’m sorry, but that’s just what I think.

One wasn’t even 21, and she already had a 6 year-old son.
One was older, and had three kids, with different guys, and then another guy she lived with turned out to be gay and left her when she was 7 months pregnant.
And the list goes on. Apparently their idea of a good time is getting drunk and letting hilarity ensue. The accuracy of their ability to get themselves to a specific level of drunkeness, and then maintain that without going further or losing their buzz, amazed me.

I don’t think they’re “Bad” people… but all I could think as I listened to them was, “Holy shit, you people need to stop living in fantasy land, and sort out your freaking priorities.”

The only thing that I found okay about the whole evening was talking to this one other friend of his that I’d met previously, and then meeting my accompanist.

Yes, apparently my accompanist is gay. I didn’t recognize him till he jabbed me in the ribs and asked if I was ever going to say hi. Apparently he had been as much in the dark about me being gay as I had been about him.

I guess my feelings showed on my face by the end of the evening, because one girl leaned over and asked if it was my first time at a club. When I said yes, she just nodded and said something about how ‘it’s always better after the first experience’.

I’m sorry, but I don’t want to get drunk, I don’t want to spend hours every other night in a club screaming out a conversation over the ungodly loud music, the ciggarett smoke made me feel sick, and just about everyone there would be talking to someone and be all ‘happy-love-you’… then the minute that person left, they would start bitching about them behind their back. That is NOT cool.

I don’t know what I was expecting. I guess I’m just stupid like that.

Right now I just want to curl up and die. I wish I hadn’t gone, and after that, I’m not sure how I even feel about Jack any more.

Oh [insert descriptive word]

I have a bit of a situation on my hands, and I’m not really sure how to deal with it. I know I’m probably being really preemptive with this. I’ll just start by saying that I’ve never, ever been hit on before… so this entire thing is totally, completely new to me.

I met this guy yesterday at a get-together for all of the incoming music students at my university. I’m a freshman, although I’ve been in college for two years (long story–I was trying to get into the music program, and needed training) and I’m almost 19.

During the day, I ended up sitting next to this guy, and he kept half looking at me, and I kept half looking at him, and then he started smiling at me, and… well… he was really cute, and so I smiled back. Then we talked a little during one of the breaks about… something. I think he invited me to his 24th birthday party.

I said that I hadn’t quite caught his name during the whole round of introductions, and he repeated it for me. Then he said he remembered my name because he always remembers people’s names if they have nice eyes. I didn’t quite know how to reply, so I just grinned.

On the lunch break, he and I ended up grabbing some pizza and he sat down on a bench outside (we were at someone’s mini-mansion… it was -amazing-), and I kind of stood near him, and we talked for a minute before he invited me to sit down. So I did. It was a bit close, but not terribly so.

We talked for a while, along with a friend of his and two new friends of mine who walked ovre, and he kind of made hints at things, and I think I kind of did too (I can’t remember for the life of me WHAT WE WERE TALKING ABOUT I was so distracted… and I had to ask what his name was again from someone else because I was so thrown off guard by his comment about my eyes).

Then he did it: He said, “You’ll have to forgive me if I seem really forward, or like I’m being intrusive, but” (at which point my brain went AAAAAAAAAAAH) “… are you gay?”

I hesitated for a split second, remembered how I had sworn to myself at the start of the semester that I was going to be a good Catholic boy… and then said, “yes.”

Annnnnd that was pretty much the end of my resolution for that day. We talked about a few things (the lunch break was an hour and a half, which was fantastic) and I asked if he was out to his parents, and he said yes, and then I briefly outlined my struggle with Catholicism, and he had some surprisingly insightful things to say. I did have to get up at one point and go inside because I felt so overwhelmed, but I got over it quickly and went back out.

When we went back inside, we ended up sitting right next to each other again, and we were sitting on the floor in front of this round coffee table.

Then I felt his hand brush my knee a few times, so I put mine down under the table, and we ended up holding hands for the rest of the 3 hours. I was thinking, “Wow, isn’t this a little fast?” but I really didn’t want to stop, so I didn’t pull my hand away.

Of course I almost flipped out later on when I walked out of the room, came back in, and realized that even when our hands were under the table, everyone else in the room could still see them. I don’t know why it didn’t occur to me that just because MY line of vision was blocked by the table, it didn’t mean anyone else’s was.

But even after I realized that… I sat back down and we kept holding hands. I guess I figured if no one had flipped out yet…

So after the seminar ended at about 5 p.m., he and two friends ended up driving me back to the university because his car, his friend’s car, my friend’s car, and my car were all still back at the university parking lot (we carpooled to go to the house so that we wouldn’t take up too much space).

Then he asked if I was doing anything else that day, I said no, and he invited me out for coffee… there was definitely a part of me that said, “If you do this, that means you’re giving up what you’d resolved not to do,” so I hesitated… then said sure. The part of me that wanted to do it was way stronger than the part that wasn’t sure.

So in short… we talked for five hours over coffee about… everything. Music, politics, friends, gay stuff, religion, and so forth. Then we walked around the strip-mall for a while, he helped me figure out what to buy my mom for her birthday.

We ended up sitting on the bench outside of Starbucks for quite a while, just kind of talking, holding hands, and… I guess… snuggling just a little. I don’t know. It was really nice. He told me I was cute a lot, which no one has done before, and he even kissed my hand at one point… which sent me into the most retarded fit of the giggles ever…

He seems sweet, and he has a few friends that I vaguely know, so I’m pretty sure he’s not a total freak-azoid in secret. He also said that I should just let him know if I felt like he was pushing things too far… and he was very ‘respectful’ of my boundaries.

But on the other hand, I don’t want to just go flying into this. I’ve never really had a serious crush like this on someone, where they seemed to feel the same. And I definitely don’t want to get physically involved really quickly.

He sent me a bunch of text messages (which I may or may not have replied to as quickly as my little thumbs could type…) this morning.

So… I need to figure out what to do now.

New Dog!

Alright, here’s the scoop–my mother has had a retired greyhound racer for six years now. He’s nine years old, and he’s about the sweetest, shyest dog in the world. His name is Lockers–he’s a red brindle.

I have -always- wanted a little dog to be my own. Since even before we got Lockers, I wanted one who would be mine, and who would be a little dog.

Today my longtime dream came true. Meet Rosie, my new, special girl:

Supposidly she’s half English Cocker Spaniel, and half Labrador Retriever. She’s about a year and a half old, and she’s very shy and submissive. I hope, over the years, to bring her out a little more.

Right now she’ll just roll over on her back, both in submission, and for tummy rubs! She’s not usually fearfully submissive, it’s more just a, “Okay, consider me the underdog–no, really! I’m good with that!” and she wants tummy rubs and ear scratching.

More photos and details to follow! Right now I’m very tired, though, and I’m sleeping downstairs for the night. I think there’s about a 1% chance of our two, docile dogs getting into a tussle, but I’m more concerned about her waking up and needing to go out than anything else.