Home again...

Well, the move is complete.

For the most part, anyway. I packed all my things into some boxes, stuffed my suitcase with clothes and tucked my computer back into it's box. My furniature still sits in limbo in my room, giving it a weird aura. It's almost like a hotel room, with an empty desk and shelves. Kind of symbolic that my room should look so abandoned, after living a year with the roommate from hell.

As I slid the last few boxes closer to the door, I studied the room. It's really comfortable, and I'm quite happy with it. I looked at the bed where so much has changed, the desk where my computer sat, the silver clock that's still an hour behind, never reset for Daylight Savings...what should I be feeling?

There was a mixture of sadness and regret, but I was surprised to find a part of me that didn't really care. There was a total of one night that I lay in bed and thought to myself finally, "This is my room! I live here!" Nearly every other day I felt like a (mistreated) guest in my own home. And I'm not going to miss that.

Strangely enough, my dear roommate was there when I started moving boxes out the door. What was strage, she never took the opportunity to make a grand enterance, or criticize, or do much of anything. It was almost a let-down, since I had prepared myself for her to make some comments about my departure.

After what felt like hours, everything was finally in the car and we were on our way. The same ritual was praticed once we arrived, unpacking the car, trip after trip through doors and up stairs, until finally my room was overflowing with boxes. I then started the tedious task of unpacking...something I'm still working on.

Observations after being here for less than 24 hours:
-my room at home is the same size as my apartment room, yet nothing fits anywhere
-my furniature has no space for clothes/little shelf space
-my closet is microscopically small
-our taps drip and don't exactly work properly
-there is no space for me; no room for my coats, no room in the bathroom for my stuff, no space in the kitchen for my coffee maker
-my mother will drive me insane, after having a room that was utterly my space, she walked in and out of it about 100 times. She also has a tendancy to 'find things' 'innocently', eg. porn. So privacy=0 at the moment...and it's going to be interesting to figure out what to do with that box of porn and sex toys...
-there are people here who love me, and I feel welcome in my own home again

The only gay in the villiage...

Last weekend I was put in a situation that made me realize, however many times I feel like my situation is impossible, I am truly lucky.

On Saturday, once we arrived in Huntsville, the quite cottage town surrounded by lakes and picturesque forrest, we took a walk through the main street. The sun beat down on my skin, warming it after months of cold and sunless winter. I smiled, and had good reason to. I was with my family, the sky was crystal blue, and we were walking in the fresh, clean norther air, surrounded by natural beauty.

Of course, being the kick-off to the cottaging season, my mother needed to check into all her favorite stores, seeing what they had for the upcoming outdoors season. She lingered, talking to shopkeepers, while I daydreamed, aimlessly wandering shops. We came to our last stop, a kitchen/clothing/outdoors store near the end of the strip. Originally we weren't even going to go in, but decided to anyway.

The doors were swung open, letting the hydrocarbon-free air inside. Standing at the counter was a guy who must have been my age, and very cute. He looked...bright. His eyes were alert but smiling and warm, his clothes trendy but tasteful, and his mouth creased into a smile as we walked in.

The usual plesantries were exchanged, and my gaydar flickered. "Hmm," I thought. "Maybe?" After all, a guy my age working in a kitchen/clothing store?...but I tried not to think too hard about it. I gave him a smile and some eye contact, and shrugged it off as a mixture of me being oversexed and full of false hope. We walked through the store, and I wound up in the men's section. For being in cottage country, I was stunned to find their selection included a small but well-suited Lacoste section.

A few mintues of browsing later, and who should come up to me but the guy from behind the counter. The store was pretty dead, and I was off in my own little world walking around, turning to face him as he approached. He smiled, genuinely, but it felt like there was something more behind it.

"Uh, if there's anything you need help with, you can let me know," he said, still smiling. I held his gaze, desperately trying to think of a question to ask him to get into a conversation, but failing miserably. After all, what did I have to work with? Other than asking him if this color of shirt would look good on me, I could come up with nothing that didn't sound utterly stupid.

So I simply continued smiling, and said thanks, I'd be sure to let him know. He said he'd be over at the counter, and turned and walked away. Of course, in retrospect, I wish that I had the courage/balls/whatever to strike up a conversation with this guy, maybe even go so far as to try and have coffee with him after his shift, to "farmiliarize myself with local culture" etc. etc. Unfortunately I'm not that confident yet, nor am I naturally really able to make friends/pick people up off the street.

I ended up buying a shirt, and my dad bought some pants. The guy rang it up, which gave me more time to stare...with some attention being returned to me. I think, maybe I was just being overly hopeful again...He popped the stuff into a bag, and turned to me.

"Well I guess this is for you," he said, and stretched out his arm. I took the handle from him (and in another moment of retrospect, wished I'd had brushed a finger against his...) and we turned and left the store. Once we were outside, I shot another glance in to the register, and a smile.

Once I was firmly planted in a deck chair, sun streaming over my pale (and not-yet-yellow) skin, my mind drifted back to the guy in the store. I thought of how hard it must be, up in such a small community with no gays (at least not many who would be out), and no young guys for this guy. I thought how difficult it might be for him at night, lying in bed, thinking he's the only gay in the villiage. Who know's he's gay? And are there any other gay guys there for him to meet? Does he feel alone?

What does one do in situations like that? Obviously this condition must exsist for hundreds of thousands of gay youth throughout North America. Small town, not near any cities, conservative and closed-minded...

Not unlike my hometown.

Thankfully I have an outlet, by living in Toronto I have access to a huge number of gay things. I could haunt the Villiage if I wanted, or meet people online who lived only 15 minutes away, or go to a gay club and be surrounded by people who don't really care about sexual preference. But for these people, stuck in small towns with no way of accessing other gays...life must be difficult.

Not to mention the fact they might not even be open with their sexuality. Everyone knows that news of an openly gay son would spread like wildfire across a small town, and it would make long-term living in the town difficult.

Maybe I'm wrong about all of that. Maybe the gay youths like the guy in Huntsville have met others their age, and are making out just fine in life. Maybe they're happier, more successful homo's than I am. But maybe they're struggling with an impossible situation.

So that afternoon, and tonight, I counted my blessings that I'm able to live (for the most part) in a city where I know where to find guys, where I can actually meet someone in person whom I meet online, and where I can (hopefully) live my life without being stigmatized because of sexuality. And I send up prayers for all the guys who feel alone in their towns, with little hope of meeting another like them.

All done!...

I wrote my last exam today, so I'm all finished for this semester!

It feels really great to be done. I don't stress out like some people do, but usually the day before an exam, or if I'm worried about the exam (like today) my mind starts to race while I cram the last few minutes of studying in.

Thankfully, I have to say it went really well, though my hand is a bit cramped at the moment. Good thing it gets lots of excersise!

But now I'm kinda faced with an emptyness...openness...as everyone pulls up stakes and heads to their hometowns I too will be formally moving home any day. It hasn't been on my mind, since I've been thinking about stuyding, and packing, and enjoying the sun way too much.

I'm going to make a resolution that I'm simply going to go with the flow, whatever that might be, once I get home. I'm not going to worry about missing people, because we'll all be back in a few months. Besides, being home this summer gives me lots of time to reconnect with a group of people that I haven't seen a lot of lately.

I'd like to say I have a grand plan for my next 4 months...but I don't really. I know what I don't want to do; repeat last summer. Though I had a good time with family and friends, my days were long and tedious. Get up, be lazy, go to work, come home, be lazy, go to bed. Sure there were exciting times, but I didn't 'go with the flow' enough. So I guess this summer's goals would be to actually force myself outside of the house, explore old friendships and have fun doing nothing with my friends.

Wow. What a crazy semester it's been!

Resurfaced...

Having thought I'd never hear from David again, I was to say the least a little surprised yesterday morning.

Doing my usual morning routine, checking messages and e-mails and the general state of the online world, I came across a message he'd left on my Facebook. It said simply "chills?", which I take to me hi, how's it going, whats new, etc...all wrapped up in a nice little word.

As you all know by now, I tend to analyze everything I see. So when I see this message, left for me from the middle of the night before, I wondered what exactly he was saying. Was he testing the water? Since 2 weeks ago I haven't spoken a word to him, I've been really busy and just expected not to hear from him anytime soon.

I let it sit for the day, and messaged him back last night, just saying hi and how I can't wait for exams to be over (which I can't, by the way...hurray tomorrow and my final one!). I figured what the hell, I'll talk to him online soon and see whats up.

Again, last night he left another response, this one more words (but still under 10 I think...), and said to call him. Usually with people, that's just a polite thing to say, and I again promised myself to go online and talk to him soon, if he and I even catch each other on IM.

Today at 3:30 p.m. he texted my cell, "hey hey".

What the hell does all this mean!? I don't want to give him the cold shoulder, but I have no idea what to say when I call him. After the confusing night we spent together I just decided he was a really sweet but ultimately unatainable guy, and had gotten comfortable with the idea of maybe just dropping him a line again next year to see if anything had changed.

Ugh. Well I suppose I should call him...

Whoops...

This warm weather is dangerous. It give people ideas, makes everything seem like a brilliant choice and encourages us to quite possibly make asses out of ourselves.

Last week, everyone was walking around in shorts and sandals, looking as if the warm had been here for months. People really looked like we were in the middle of summer...and there I was, quite unprepared for it.

One of the things I dislike most about myself is my skin tone. I'm fair...beyond fair, almost transparently white. Not Bebe Neuwirth pale, but damn close. It goes with the blonde-ish hair and the blue eyes and all that other stuff. I don't mind the hair, and the eyes, but I hate the skin.

And as you may have guessed, I don't tan.

It's regretable, in a society that exhalts those who turn a crispy golden brown when the sun shines on their bodies, that mine refuses to comply. No matter what I do, be it a short stint in the sun every day, or longer times less frequently, I simply don't darken. I do however burn.

Red, painful, itchy, hot sunburns. And they aren't even worth getting, because they too don't simply fade into a healthy glow. They just fade away, back to white. So I'm forced to do the sunscreen thing and be 'careful of my exposure' (not that I am...).

Well, this year I really wanted to try to do something about it. I'm not really crazy about actually tanning in beds or anything like that, and I really don't think doing body spraying to make myself look darker would work for me either. But there was one product that I thought I'd give a try, and get a jump on the nice weather. Maybe this year I'd finally look alive during the summer months!

I grabbed a bottle of Nivia for Men's Summer Look moisturizer, that has some qualities that aren't exactly advertized as a skin bronzer, but will darken the skin color and give a 'sunless tan'. (Ok, I do realize that this somehow must be a bronzer, but I was playing stupid when I read the box.)

My first application was Friday, with my second on Saturday. I got a great day of sun in yesterday, since my parents and I went for an overnight in Huntsville, the family's destination of choice. I smugly sat in the sun, warming my bones and feeling the rays searing my face. "By tomorrow I'll look at least somewhat colored!" I promised myself.

When I got up this morning, after a few minutes of walking around admiring the lake view, my mother stopped me.

"Whats wrong," she said, staring at me. "Let me look at your face."

I paused, half smiling inwardly, half mildly concerned. Perhaps she's noticed something?

"Your face...it's kinda yellow," she said, her eyes fixed on my now dropped jaw.

Oh shit.

I went to the mirror, praying along the way she was wrong. I turned the corner, and there it was.

The whole face wasn't yellow, but where the second day of stubble had grown in was shaded a funny color. I studied the top half of my face, thinking that maybe, just maybe, the light was making me look weird. Thankfully the top was fine. So for some reason I've got this yellow shade mixed into my facial hair.

She let it go, but I knew she was watching me like a hawk. A half-hour later, my father stopped me.

"Is your face yellow?" he said, and just like mom he immediately started staring at me. By this point I knew a) there was something amiss with my color and b) it was obvious to everyone. But I immediately attempted to shrug it off, with a mixture of complete teenaged self-absorbedness ("What are you staring at!") and humour ("Oh, I must be jaundiced."

He too let it go. I didn't want to admit in front of my father that yes, I was using some tanning moisturiser ("You've been living in that damned city too long..." etc. etc.) so I waited until we got home and I could pull my mother aside and confess my horrible sins...

She breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you for telling me," she said, "your father was getting a little worried."

"About what!" I demanded. I still cannot get over the fact that I've lived away from home for the last 2 years, and am quite independent and self-aware to know if there's something actually wrong with me, yet the moment I turn yellow my parents think I've got some rare skin disease. Or something. They must be watching too much House.

But she just explained that it was a parenthood thing that neither of them could ever shake, and I should just be happy that they care.

At the next available moment, I had an idea. I lathered up and shaved away the stubble, using the theory that since it hadn't turned the rest of me yellow, there must be some strange facial hair/moisturiser reaction that made it look an odd hue. Thankfully, once I'd rinsed away my face, the color was mostly gone.

I popped downstairs, and passed my mom. She looked at me, nodded, and whispered, "It's pretty much gone." So it passed that test. Thankfully.

All in all, I'm not quite sure what to do. I mean, the rest of me hasn't turned funny colors, and once I'd shaved the strange hue was gone from my face. But I don't want to be yellow, and if there's the chance I'm going to turn that way again if I miss a day of shaving, I don't exactly relish the thought of walking around with a band of inhuman shade on my head.

So that was by breif and very unsuccessful attempt at changing my color. I guess there are just some things about ourselves that we'll never be able to change.

Be right back...

I'm sorry I haven't been able to post this week. I feel bad! I'm so used to posting that it's become part of the daily routine, but since my routine has been changed because of the end of school, and the crazyness that ensued, I've been neglectful.

Problem is, I can't post again until tomorrow night! Stupid not having internet access...

Frozen Underwear returns Sunday evening...

Oh grow up...

I realize that I've been acting childishly about the whole recent situation. To the point where I'm embarassed at how immature I am, when usually I'm the one that's keeping people calm.

Not that I've been kicking the crap out of garbadge cans, or downing pails of iced cream, or anything drastic (or interesting). It's all been very internal. But I refuse to be that stupid child and have now decided to no longer whine and pine over the fact that things out of my contol happen.

So I, Steve, hereby swear that I will be a mature man of substance, and will not allow myself to worry needlessly or to act irrationally because of things that are in the past.

Of course I realize that since I haven't been around the block enough times yet, I legitimately am operating with the relationship skills of a 16-year-old. So that's gotta count for something. But at the same time, when I'm calling Lisa 3 times in a row after discovering the MySpace page of the new bf, then the MySpace page with the blog...definately going to be more mature next time.

And when will the next time be? I've recieved some advise that says I'm not ready for a long term thing. But am I allowed something short term? I mean, maybe I'm being immature again, but if I do meet someone, I'm sorry, but I want to be happy with that part of life again. I spent all of high school playing the 'I don't need anyone to be happy'/'some day soon, I'll meet someone, don't worry, it'll happen' roles. I don't want to simply have someone for the sake of having a body on the couch next to me, but I know I'm just happier when there's someone around that I actually like.

Inner poise...inner poise...

Go figure...

I guess some people get 'back on the horse' faster than others...

The Internet is a powerful, and very useless, tool. It can make fools out of the least likely people, and make fools into the least likely successes. I haven't decided what it's made me yet.

Whilst wasting time online today, I checked out Facebook to see what's new and exciting. As I scrolled down the page, I got quite the surprise: Brian is now listed as "In a relationship".

My first impression was shock. Then the twinge of jealousy, not for him, but for the fact he was now with someone again. I don't know what else followed, but it felt pretty crappy. I can see how people feel, meeting their exes randomly and being introduced to the 'new guy'. It sucks, so I can empathise with you all now. But to have it come across the internet at you?

So I pulled it together, though why I even cared I don't really understand. But after an hour, I was itching to know who the hell this person is. I started digging (thank you Internet).

What I came up with started to bother me even more. Through Brian's myspace, I found this guy who he's now seeing. He's older, cute, very artsy-esque. I then realized that Brian had a blog.

I delved in, reading the recent entries about this new guy, and how he's the "sweetest, funniest, greatest person I've ever met." I started going backwards, closer and closer to the date that things ended between us (for those interested, it was March 14). Shockingly, the mentions of the new guy start only a week and a bit after March 14.

Now I was really getting...I don't even know. Pissed off? Hurt? Upset? In any case, my stomach was starting to go into knots. I went back to entries while we were still seeing each other. And guess what I found.

Nothing.

There is no mention of me. At all. Not even a hint of 'the guy I'm seeing', or even a mention as a friend. No rambling about how great I am. Like I didn't exsist.

I'm still not sure how I feel about it all. After all, at the time I was convinced that he really, really liked me. Everything he did made me think that I was well liked. I'll freely admit, I know I wasn't the 'sunshine on his cloudy days' or anything like that, but dammit I thought he liked me.

Not to mention the fact that, after mildy freaking out over the weekend wondering if I'll ever meet anyone who I'll like/will like me in the next year, I get greeted with all of this information about how happy they are. And it sounds like they're really, really happy. Which is nice, as long as I don't have to hear too many of the happy details.

And holy crap, can you say fast!? I mean he must have met this guy while I was still around, because don't tell me he met him literally the day after things ended, and they're now madly in love. I don't even want to go into how that makes me feel.

This all comes days after I actually had dinner and drinks with Brian. Last Thursday we finally met up, and had a nice evening of chatting and whatnot. It wasn't awkward, or strained. But when we were about to head our seperate ways, we hugged, and I pulled him in close. We stood there for a minute, and did the whole 'take care over the summer' thing. Looking back, I feel like such an idiot. I thought he might have missed me. I wanted to let him know I do miss seeing him. But I probably came off like I still wasn't over it, since he is now "fully off the market" (does that mean he wasn't with me?).

I'm glad I don't have to see him for a few months, because I didn't realize I could get this shaken up about him anymore. It's not like it was heading towards marriage...but it was meaningful. For both of us? At least I thought so...

More happiness...

It must be the end of semester stress/realization that it's all over for another year.

People left and right have been overly nice this past week, overly social and completely candid. It's either because everyone's really down about leaving, or there's mass delusions thanks to collective over-learning during the last week of class.

It's been infectious, too. I've talked to so many people (comparative to other weeks) and actually found that I've started friendships. There are people I never got to know until just this week, but it's really wonderful to know I'll have people to come back to in September. Plus, by the way it looks, I'll have lots of people to keep in touch with over the summer.

There is one in particular, which I found so touching. I met Amy randomly, walking with people who I found out to be mutual friends of hers and mine. She gave them each a hug, then threw open her arms and moved to me. I didn't hesitate at all, and gave her a huge hug. Ever since we've had this crazy thing going on between us. I love her, yet I don't even know her that well.

As the weeks went by we'd share a few words here and there, only in passing. The times we tried to go for coffee, it just never panned out, with one or the other needing to be somewhere else. Last week she did some Facebook quiz, the type where you list 10 random friends and answer questions about them. The question that corrisponded with me was: "What is it about your friendship with (blank) that you like the most?"

Her answer was though we didn't spend a lot of time together, she felt that I was a great person and a good friend, and wished we actually got to be together more often. I resolved to mention to her that I was really touched by that, but I ended up sending her a message before I saw her in person. I sent:

"I just wanted to say, I read your note, and the thing I love about you the most is the fact that I really don't 'know' you, yet I consider you a good friend too, and I really love that. You're amazing, I don't even know what it is but I feel totally at ease when I'm around you. You're just wonderful I guess...lol anyway I just wanted to say that it was ironic to read that you're comfortable with me when I was thinking the same thing about you. In this crazy world it's amazing to meet people that friendship can develop at an almost unspoken level between people. much love!!!"

Her response came the next afternoon, and I wasn't prepared at all for it.

"Oh golly, sir ...I just read your message and dropped a full load of laundry on my floor. Now I'm sitting here reduced to tears, typing away as I try to reorganize my socks. LOL! I think your message was one of the sweetest and most honest things I've ever received. Thank you so much for telling me this ... You really can't put a value on a connection like this. It's our secret! Haha. Ever since I first saw you, I thought you were such a breath of fresh air, which is why I had no problem bear-hugging a "complete stranger". You're just different. I didn't think such pure hearts still existed, so excuse me while I break out in hallelujahs. Anywaaaaays, I'm going to pick up my laundry ^_^ You're a doll, Steve, you really are. Love right back to you <3."

I still get goosebumps after reading it. That has to be one of the nicest notes I've recieved, maybe ever. It's moments like that that make life special.

Of course afterwards I started overanalizing (What do you mean I'm differet!?). Something I should really work on...

All in all, it's been a fascinating year. Lots of good. Enough bad. And I'm sure glad that I'm leaving school on a high note, and with the hopes that the next will be that much better.

If you say so...

It's hard to keep track of yourself.

Not difficult to remember where you were, what you did, or who you saw on a certain day, thanks to blogging, electronic calendars, or a plain old day-minder journal. But keeping track of you, as a person, can be pretty tough.

Wednesday night found me at our school pub with a group of classmates. We'd just put in our last day in our class, and headed out to celebrate our job well done. Everyone was in good spirits, enjoying the fact we were almost done our year. People laughed, joked, stressed out over last-minute assignments, and said their goodbyes to new friends.

The group started dispersing at around 8 p.m., leaving Nathan and I sitting at a table. We both looked at each other, and made faces. I gave in and said, "You know, I don't really want to leave. Wanna have another beer?"

He agreed, and we sat at a smaller table and ordered a new pint. Nathan is remarkably similar to me, and I felt dumb just realizing this as we talked that evening. We have different views on many things, but we both hold a similar approach to life. Our conversation touched on politics, religion, health, school, future plans, and of course relationships.

Nathan is somewhat of a ladies man, but how he accomplishes this I don't understand. I don't think he's attractive at all, he's far geeky-er than I am, and he strikes me to be very unromantic. But from all the stories he's told, he seemingly picks up women left and right. His current relationship is hitting the 6-month mark. But he was far more interested in my 'status'.

After telling him, no, I'm not seeing anyone, and no, I don't date that often, he (in a drunken state of honesty, which I don't question it's authenticity) started telling me the things I can have if I want them.

"You see these girls here? You could have any one you want," he said, matter-of-factly.

"Why?" I asked. "I'm kinda boring, I don't do the clubbing thing, and I certainly don't have the air of a ladies man."

He smiled. "But you've got way more than the other losers who get these beautiful girlfriends."

At that moment, Laura planted herself on my lap. After brief introductions, and the necessary, "No, we're not dating, she's my (future) roommate," she went off to join her other friends.

"She's cute," Nathan said. "Really cute. But you can do better."

I threw my hands in the air. Remember, this is Steve you're talking about Nathan! I'm unpopular! I'm unattached! I don't dance!

But he persisted. "Most of the girls that date these guys don't even like them. The bar is just so low, and they want to have boyfriends, that they don't even notice their guy is dumb as a stick, or not attractive."

"Gee, thanks...so I'll have success because the bar is low..."

"No, that's only part of it. You've got so much more than these other guys. You're above-average intelligent, charming, witty, actually care about people...you've got a good sense of fashion, an image of yourself...and you're a really attractive guy."

I almost fell out of my chair.

"Come on, you're joking," I said. I couldn't believe I was hearing this. These qualities are what people think of me? That's kind of amazing.

"Seriously. It's really been different for you, in the last few months. It's like you're Steve the man now. You've changed, and it's good," he said, so factually and seriously that I know he wasn't bullshitting me.

I laughed some more, but what he was saying really hit home. But I need reassurance, as I told him, because I never hear these things about myself. Nobody ever tells me how attractive I am, or how I'm witty, or that I would make an excellent boyfriend. Everything he said I am so self-critical about that it took me 5 mintues to process and finally accept maybe what he was saying is true.

We rounded off the evening at 11:30, both rather drunk and in good spirits. I think we definately became better friends that night, because conversation flowed so easily. Not only that, but I felt a deeper respect for him, and I'm pretty sure he found the same with me.

Once I was laying in bed, thinking about what he'd said, I really began to wonder. Have I changed that much? Am I now 'Steve the man', not Steve the guy who came here 2 years ago? And who is this 'Steve the man' anyway. He's me, but I just didn't realized I've changed.

Lisa told me last weekend that I'm the happiest she's ever seen me. That I'm more centered, pulled-together and a fuller person. I don't think that I was really that unhappy before, or that I was scattered...but I guess I've changed.

Throughout life, there will always be changes. People change. I'll change again. But have I finally accepted myself, on some unconscious level, and become a better person? And what doors will now be open when I go back to school in September?...

Hold me...

I woke up this morning with David naked in my bed, face-down in a pillow.

He rolled over, sungled close into me, and drifted back off to sleep. I smiled to myself, closed my eyes, and enjoyed the warmth radiating off his body. It felt so good to have someone beside me.

Later on, his hands started wandering...and one thing led to another...

He finally decided to get up and leave about 8:30 a.m., but still didn't know how he was getting home. I was puzzled at the fact that someone would (and could) so easily make the decision to spend the night without the faintest clue how to get around the next morning. He seemed so together, so prepared, but he paced my room, flipping through his cellphone trying to find someone (though I still don't know who) for a lift home.

I pulled on my robe, and we walked to my door. He stuck out his hand, smiled as we shook, and said, "Good luck with class today. Drop me a message later, and I'll see you later."

Yes, the evening was full of contradictions.

* * * * * * *

He got to my place at around 10:30 p.m., and we met downstairs. He was taking a long pull on a cigarette when I rounded the corner, and he smiled as smoke curled from his mouth. Out came his hand, we shook, and I studied him face-to-face.

Definately as cute as I'd thought, my height (a definate turn-on), with a certain air about him. We chatted, which consisted of him doing most of the talking about the concert he'd been at that evening. After a few minutes, we headed inside.

He dropped his stuff and sat on my bed, obviously comfortable. I liked that, he seemed at home and happy to be there. I got us each a beer, and we sat there and talked for over an hour. Conversation came from all parts of our lives, school, future plans...he really is an interesting person.

All through these plesantries, I couldn't help but continually wonder what exactly was going on. He was talking. To me. Getting to know me, and letting me know him. This was the most I've ever talked to someone on an occasion when it wasn't a date. I still didn't know what to think, but he laid down on my bed, exposing his back, and sighed.

"You know, I'd really go for a back rub."

I inwardly rolled my eyes. His personality is somewhat self-centred, but he has a redeeming interest in talking and engaging with the person he's talking to.

I don't mind giving back massages, but I don't exactly know what I'm doing. Sure, it seems simple enough, but I don't like to do a half-assed job. If I'm giving a back rub, I want to hit the right spots with the right pressure, and really get the reciever enjoying it. I've given a few of these, but I never know if I'm doing it right.

"Ummm...." he sighed, satisfied. "You're really good."

Huh. There you go. I guess I'm not so bad!

Time passed, I got tired of running my hands over his still-clothed back, so I rolled over beside him. He waited a few beats, then pulled me close and wrapped himself around me. We lay there for what felt like forever, holding, caressing, kissing...it was profoundly intimate.

Shirts came off, then pants, as we continued to kiss and cuddle. Finally, the underwear came off, and we proceeded on to below-the-belt massaging.

The second half of the evening was enjoyable, but the sex wasn't as good as I had expected. He was eager and willing to do pretty much anything, and was a very hands on guy. It was still quite intimate, and slow paced. We savoured, enjoyed, and didn't hurry through anything.

* * * * * * *

Finally, we finished, and lay next to each other. I was exhausted, he must have been too. But after a minute, he rolled over and grabbed his phone.

"What time does the subway close?" he asked, checking the time. I told him 2, that he had less than 10 minutes to get dressed and run all the way to the station. He muttered to himself as he debated...I started to get a little offended. After all, we'd just had this intimate, close, personal sex, and he was trying his hardest to find a way home.

10 mintues later, he gave up. "I guess I'll chill here for a while," he said, and shoved his face in a pillow. I looked at him, shook my head, and lay down. What the hell!? One mintue, he's doing this intimate get-to-know-you thing, next he's disinterested and distant.

But moments later, he'd rolled over, throwing his arm around me. I smiled, and drifted to sleep.

For the rest of the night we stuck pretty closely together, wrapped in each others arms. I tried to ignore the confusion, and enjoy the moment.

* * * * * * *

Once he left, I crawled back into bed, and immediately fell into a deep sleep. I awoke feeling refreshed and alive, and I replayed the evening in my mind. I'm still not sure what the hell happened, or what I meant to him, or what he means to me. I don't know if it was a date, then sex, or a hook-up with that touch of personality, or just a random night. Whatever the case, I still don't understand the close-then-distant-then-close flow of the evening. I guess I'll just have to leave the next move up to him.

With only one week left...

Wow. It's my last week of classes for Second year.

Shocking really, considering how I vividly remember Christmas and New Years and coming back to class. Even more shocking is how long ago it feels since when I met up with Jamie, and opened all those doors...

And it's already Monday night.

I still have to do something with Rez Guy, pay a last visit to a guy who's moving to Vancouver, have dinner with Jamie, meet up with David (tonight, in about 10 minutes...)...oh and finish school stuff.

Wow. I'd say life's good, that I've got a semi-consistant social life, but that's an overstatement. All of this hinges on other people, and if they're free. And we all know my recent track record for reliable plans...

Life is moving too fast right now, speeding towards the conclusion of one chapter, and the opening of the next. I guess I get to write a whole new chapter come Friday when I move home, and explore my life back there. Then I get another new chapter in September, and I'm going to make that one count.

But for now I've got to survive the next few days. And by survive, I mean live them to the fullest.

And a Happy Easter...

I haven't fallen off the face of the earth. After all, it's Easter weekend.

Lisa ended up coming to my place for the long weekend, since she lives across the country and isn't going home for the weekend. My mom is away on a trip, my grandparents are gone, and all that's left is me and dad, and now Lisa. Needless to say, it's been a quiet weekend so far.

I hope we haven't scared her too much at how slow (and boring) life can be out here. Yesterday we didn't get up until 10 a.m., then did nothing for an hour and a half, showered and finally got out the door to do grocery shopping. We had lunch along the way, and really just took our time, finally getting home at about 4 p.m. By the time everything was away, it was starting to get late, and we just did more hanging around and relaxing.

All of this sounds boring, and it was. At the moment, it's the fun boring, the 'lets relax and enjoy some downtime' variety. But if this is a forecast of things to come when I move home officially...wow, I'm going to need to find lots of things to occupy my time.

David Update: He wrote on my Facebook wall last night "haha Monday ;)" which I take to mean see you monday. I hope. But why you already have to be laughing is beyond me...oh well.

Everyone have a Happy Easter and enjoy your weekend. The cold snap will end sometime here in North America and we'll finally get some warmpth and sunshine, maybe someday soon.

Unreliable (pt. 2)...

Well I can't complain about inconsistancy.

Tonight was the reschedual with David from last night. He'd be all ready to meet me after the concert I went to, and we'd grab a late dinner and so on...

He called me at 8:30, just before the show started, to say hi and check in on me. I then called him back at 10:45 after the show, and didn't get an answer...so I called again when I got near my place at 11...

Finally, as I sat in front of my computer to check if he was online, he phoned. The essay that's due tomorrow morning still isn't finished, he said, and he really wanted to come but he NEEDS to finish this essay by tonight. I wasn't really surprised, after being constantly let down this week I was prepared for him not to be free. I was still really disappointed though...

What makes it worse is that he's such a nice guy. For some reason, I've got this crazy attraction for him (a guy I've never even met yet!). Every time we talk I get the butterflies going on, and I really can't wait to actually get to spend some time with him. He says the right things without being overly polite, was talkative and generally sincere. I want to be mad at him, to tell him forget it, but I'm left just feeling more disappointed than mad.

I think (read: hope) I'm not crazy for being so interested in this guy. I've talked to several guys online, and none of them have gotten the same reaction out of me. So it's not like I'm always falling for fantasies of these guys all the time...it's just him. I can't even believe how illogical I'm being about it; how could I even know if we get along having never actually met yet? But I guess affairs of the heart are all about not making sense.

The new plan, if it holds up until then, is to meet Monday evening, since I'm going to be at home for Easter weekend. He'll come down, we'll do dinner or drinks, and actually get to spend time together. But I'm already prepared for him to say he's not free.

The other impossible situation that I can't get an answer for is what exactly is going to go down when we finally meet. Originally it was a hook-up site that brought us together, then we did the talking thing, and he came off like he wanted to actually not just hook up randomly. That struck me as pretty great. After more talking it seemed like he was really a good guy, interesting, charming, etc etc etc...so I started to question what exactly would happen when we met.

I asked him, as near to blunt as I could be without scaring the crap out of him, if we were going on a date or just having sex. He said he'd never just sleep with someone, he wants to get to know me, and hang out with me. The topic of dating came up, and he said that he doesn't date much, he's very picky. I asked him what picky meant, and he laughed and didn't really give me an answer. So I'm now completely confused, since he was supposed to spend the night tonight I'm assuming we were going to sleep together, but then all this quasi-date stuff too...

Possibilities include the fact he may be waiting to meet before he actually decides if I'm 'dating material', or that he just likes to get to know people before sex, or that he's just really smooth and playing me completely. He made so many references to us maybe/maybe not sleeping together, and how he'd never just have sex and leave...which all plays towards the dating side. Or have I discovered a new type of guy, the one who hooks up but only after having a drink with you first?

'Porn and Pancakes'...

I found this story on CNN this afternoon, and it really surprised me. I guess I keep thinking that people's attitudes towards sex and sexuality were evolving.

Essentially there is an online 'Christian Ministry' that crusades against Internet pornography and it's evil effects on the mind and soul. The creator, a Mr. Craig Gross, brings together men who have had their lives negatively effected by their addiction to porn, and helps to either warn others or break them of their habit. He even holds pancake breakfasts to get people to talk openly about porn and mastrobation.

Is there a chronic mastrobation problem amongst Christian males in the United States? Is everyone whacking off behind their keyboard 24/7?

"A lot of people think Christians sure don't struggle with this," Mr. Gross said. "The stats don't lie: Christians are consuming pornography. And to me, it's not a surprise."

Um, excuse me, but what male doesn't realize other males mastrobate, and in this day and age, to porn? It's shocking that Mr. Gross so fundamentally believes this is a religious issue, encouraging men with 'problems' to check into Christian rehab clinics to cure their sins and save their souls.

You have to give Mr. Gross credit, though. He's bringing up an issue that many Churches avoid like the plauge, and it's really a great idea to intigrate sexuality conversations with religion and the Church. I have often wondered what God's final word on sex and sexuality is, and thinking back to my Confirmation lessons a few years ago, it would have been wonderful to discuss and explore sexuality (since everyone seems to be sleeping with everyone these days).

I'm a devout Christian. I have 100% belief in God. Now you're thinking, "He hasn't lived his life by God's design." Well, that may be true, but it depends on your faction of Christianity. I personally don't think God cares about our sex lives, as much as he doesn't care when you pray for your taxes to be lower, your SAT's to be high, and your wireless internet not to crash. I'm sure some on the other hand follow the Bible's comments on sexuality to the letter...but in all honesty, religious studies these days are so conflicted, with each side pro and anti sex (and especially pro/anti homosexual) quoting experts who say God is in favor/against such activities. I guess as long as you can sleep at night with a clear consious and are comfortable with your relationship with God, you're good. How the hell should I know, anyway.

I'm quite sure he's up there though. But that doesn't mean we should be taking people with real problems to Kentucky to purge them of their porno sins and to save their souls. As it stands, religious belief should have very little impact on your medical/psychological treatment. If God created the world, he also created science and medecine, so why doesn't Mr. Gross put his faith in proper psychologists to help those who are truely addicted.

All that said, I'm becoming more and more dismayed at the lack of respect being given to Christianity these days. Tomorrow is Good Friday, which is technically a holiday, yet as I walked around the city today, signs were everywhere "Open on Friday!" Nobody can bring themselves to say "Good Friday" mind you, and someone even said "Happy Holiday" to me...which is bizarre...

The problem with Christians like Mr. Gross is the fact they really are trying to be of some help, for the betterment of their fellow man. It's hard to fault someone who has good intentions, but their motiviation can certainly be questioned. If he was a psychologist who realized many men in a certain group were addicted to porn, and set up help groups to sway them from their habit, then 'Porn and Pancakes' events would be scientifically sound and morally legitimate. But since he's got Jesus on his side, and is doing it to save your soul (and your marriage too), it's not as if his motivation is unbiased medical empathy.

The article also made me look at my own porn habits. I mastrobate regularily to various media (videos, pictures, magazines). But everything I read on sexually liberated sites says mastrobation is healthy and safe (as long as you're not jerking 24/7), and there should be no discouragement from people, especially young males in their sexual prime, to jack off. I guess that's why I can be surprised that people still think that we need to keep control on another of God's creations...the human sex drive.

How ironic, the last two songs on my iTunes shuffle were Genesis, "Jesus, He Knows Me" and Cyndi Lauper, "She Bop". Ahh...crooked TV ministers and female mastrobation...and its only 4 p.m. on a Thursday!

Unreliable...

Is it just the reality of the 21st Century that people are unreliable? Has it always been this way?

I pined all last night when my internet went out, wondering if the guy who I'm meeting tonight was trying to get in touch with me. I checked to see if I'd gotten any text messages, but sadly there was nothing.

Finally I got back online when I went to class today and immediately checked my messages. Nothing. I sent a quick e-mail asking if we were still on, and then later (at about 4 p.m.) a text to make sure that he knew I was expecting him.

At 4:56 p.m. I got a text back...that he might not make it in time but to call him tonight.

Ugh. Why does this have to happen? I set myself up to be supremely disappointed, got all ready for him to say he couldn't come, and yet I'm still a little sad that he's not going to make it. Then the question is, when will he be free? Tomorrow? Next week?

I'm going to the Lindsey Buckingham concert tomorrow night, and am seriously considering inviting him along (I have a spare ticket). That way, we get to spend the evening together, and if things go well he can stay the night (since nobody has school on Friday). But at this point it's all wishful thinking and bullshit. I'm alternating between pissed off and genuinely disappointed.

So my question is: Are all humans unreliable? Does anyone actually come when they say they will, do what they say they'll do, or call when they say they'll call? Or is it just young gay guys who are constantly letting me down these days...

Boring Monday Blues...

Another fascinating Monday has passed me by.

I didn't sleep last night, rather tossed and turned in an attempt to mimic sleep. This cold that's been following me around since last week refuses to go away, and my body was rebelling against being sleep-deprived and abused. How do actual hardcore partygoers do it?...I mean one night and I'm done.

Today was an essay, pretty much all day. I stepped out for food and tea, and to pick up some over-the-counter medecines, and ended up spending $20 at the drug store. How can this junk cost so much! It probably won't even do anything (except maybe put me in a drug-induced sleep).

Last night Brian texted me asking if I wanted to do something today. Why does this boy have such an issue with picking up the phone and calling me? I texted back this morning saying yes, let me know when and where...and still haven't heard back. Honestly, what the hell!? I'm at the point where I'm almost ready to give up the notion that we're going to pull off this friendship thing, what is his problem!?

I also eagerly awaited the phonecall from the guy I talked to last night, whom I'll name David. So far he came online once, but was set to away, then went offline.

David is Jewish, and tonight is the first night of Passover (Shalom to my Jewish friends). So I'm guessing he's having a big family dinner thing, or doing some other family commitments. I don't want to call him because I don't want to interupt anything...but I also don't want him to think I'm not interested. I'll drop him a quick e-mail later and say hi.

Otherwise, I'm just about ready to go to bed and try to get some real sleep! Enjoy your evenings, friends.

April Fools, Oops I Forgot...

I guess it's a sign of maturity when you forget it's April Fools Day.

It never came up last night, or this morning at breakfast. I just realized now that I'm welcoming a new month (hello April!). I also just had a conversation that I hope very much was not a joke.

A couple guys actually messaged me recently on dating site. I don't really know why it goes in bursts like that, but it does. One of the guys who messaged me wasn't even looking for someone in the downtown core, he was looking for people in the suburbs. Somehow we ended up exchanging IM accounts, but I never really thought anything of it.

Maybe that's what makes our conversation even sweeter. I jumped online this evening not really looking to do much of anything, but he messaged me. 2 hours later...we're meeting up on Wednesday night for dinner and drinks. At least, I think so, and I certainly hope so.

It could be (what's that called again?...oh right) hopefulness on my part, but this guy seems pretty cool, and dare I say interested in me? I mean, it was weird. We started talking with more-than-usual coyness (beating around the bush about what we were looking for) and ended up having a really great 2 hour conversation. We're both bi, both interested in relationships but willing to have fun along the way, both at university...ok, so we have a few things in common.

But what really grabbed me was his interest in me. Almost immediately after we started talking we had added each other on Facebook, and to my delight he said he liked my pictures (I hate my pictures on facebook). We actually carried a conversation, giving little bits of ourselves away, actually getting friendlier as we went. Bear in mind, this was all under the impression that we were planning on having a fling. But things started changing.

I don't even know what it was, but it started sounding like we both might be interested in seeing where it goes. I had proposed that he come down at 6 p.m. while my roommate is at work, and we'd have until 8 to do whatever. Then he said the sweetest thing, "OK, but I wanted to maybe have a drink or coffee with you too." Then I proposed we meet up at 6, whatever happens happens, then we go for drinks and dinner afterwards.

Maybe I'm being naive, or too optimistic, or something along those lines, but I have the whole butterflies thing going on. I'm excited to meet him face to face, a little worried that I'm reading too much into things, and actually feeling pretty good right now.

We left the conversation with exchanging numbers, and the plan for Wednesday. He said he'd call me tomorrow night, and he hoped we'd maybe talk online later. I don't know with him...I seem to misjudge people I meet online (remember, I thought Brian was all popular-cool-whatever, and he's practically more boring than I am), but I get the feeling that he's a cool guy. I'm flattered that he want's to spend more time together than a quick roll in bed. And I'm doing something I probably shouldn't be at this time of the year, but I don't want to give up the opportunity.

I'm just hoping it's all not a cruel April Fools joke being played by good-old fate.

So this is college...

I went to Guelph yesterday evening. It's a city about an hour away from Toronto, and it's got the typical university/college feel to it.

My friends who go there aren't exactly what I would define the usual college people. But I can't really think of them as people 'from college' because I've known them since high school. It still intriuges me whenever I visit to see them interacting with people I don't know, and in situations I don't normally find myself in.

Last night was my first kegger (I think anyway...) and it was an interesting experience. I went with one friend and his roommate, showing up at 8:30 to make sure we got lots to drink before the crowds.

I really need to work on my conversation starters with people my age. I never really have much to say to people, to this group who I struggle to identify with. As was said at some point in the evening, everyone is different and that's what binds college students together, but it's hard to strike up a conversation with the jock in the corner, or the class clown doing a keg-stand, or the really, really hot guy wearing that tight tee...

Anyway we drank and I met several people who were nice but not very conversational. As I studied the crowd, it seemed that there were 3 groups of people. Group 1 would be the people there to drink. They came with 3-4 friends, sat around and pounded beer. Not the most social, because they're concentrating their energy on drinking, and besides, they're there with friends anyway.

Group 2 is the people who either know everyone, or come off like they know everyone. Running between groups, talking and laughing loudly, enjoying themselves and their high-energy back-and-forth between groups. Though they're social, it seems like they aren't spending time with their close friends, rather just enjoying the moment as it happens.

Finally, group 3, the people who showed up with 1-2 of their buddies and proceed to talk with each other and nervously look around the room. (I was in group 3 by the way...). They don't seem to move around much, but engage in conversation with people passing by, or other small groups who they know. Overall they seem like they're having a good time, but it's hard to tell...they don't engage in many random conversations but they do talk at length to the people they know.

Where am I going with this?...I have no idea. But I got my fill of the 'college experience' from the kegger for this month, and I've gotta say I just don't understand the attraction sometimes. I mean, hanging with a huge group of your friends and drinking all night is totally cool! But when the people all didn't know each other, and at times it was difficult to strike up conversations (especially when it's not about you coming on to someone, or talking about sports). Thankfully a Leafs (hockey) game was on, so that made for some conversation, and it was fun to have everyone watching as they won the game. I guess it depends on your personality type, weather you like to hang out with new people or are more happy talking with acquaintences you know already.

It was funny to see the mix of people there too. Lots of the 'average college guys & girls' there, and surprisingly enough not many people dressed to look really good. Me being me, I tried to look presentable (ironic because some days I look like crap and don't care). I did some shopping in the afternoon before leaving, and was pretty happy with how I looked. Hopefully people liked what they saw...it's so hard to know how you *really* look. In the mirror you may be happy, but to others it might look stupid. I know, it's all about you being comfortable...but not entirely. I wore a new pair of jeans, a green t-shirt with a great white collered shirt, one of those cloth belts that matched the colours of the T exactly (freaky, actually), and a green jacket that's very in right now. I topped it all off with a hat that matched the jacket (intentional but not even the same brand!) and a silver cross necklace.

I think I looked good, but the hat scared me. When I put it on, it looked to me to be stupid. But after I shifted it around (you know, finding that good angle and all), it looked alright (I hope). I debated weather or not to just go with my hot new haircut but the hat seemed to top things off nicely.

So why am I going on about what I wore? I don't really know. I've got really bad self-image issues, think I look stupid no matter what I'm wearing, and generally don't know if people find me attractive. It's something that I want to post about, but that'll be a future post. It just seemed to fit seeing as how I thought I actually was pretty put together for this kegger that nobody else was. Yet I keep forgetting that every straight college boy wears polos exclusively.

Otherwise it was fun to do the gaydar test since there was a ton of people there. I got vibes from a few guys, and was pretty sure because of the eye contact that I'd made with some of them that they indeed were correct vibes. The cutest guy was also the funniest situation, for me anyway. My friend and I had put my bag and his jacket in a bedroom, and went to grab them when we were leaving. The door closed behind us, and we got ready to go. Of course, when my friend opened the door and went out, he said something along the lines of, "That was great, man Steve's tight!" I laughed (oh if only he knew...) and as I looked at the guy who was standing nearest the door, I got the biggest vibes of the evening. He was really cute, and kinda smiled goofily at me, but didn't really express a lot of emotion. I made so crack back that my friend must not have a lot of stamina, and the guy stood there, making eye contact but not really doing much else. I'm sure he was gay, but I've never hit on a guy at a party before...oh well, it was fun.

At one point in the night we headed to a bar/club to find some of our friends. We didn't end up finding them, but got a couple shots and kinda walked around the dance floor. I'm realizing that I might actually like to dance...a frightening prospect, since I need to dance with people I know. I can't just get out there and start dancing with anyone and everyone (at least not right away, and certainly not sober). In some ways it makes me excited to actually try a gay club, since everyone there would be interested in the same sex, but I always feel stupid and that I look like a moron when I dance.

Overall a good night, ending with us crashing in front of the TV at about 5 a.m. It definately gave me my fill of college party antics for this month. Now back to another week...the second last of semester!