Time and time again, we are fed the same stories.
Be they on television, in literature, or even worse, in our friend's and family's lives, we are confronted with fairy tales. Grand narratives of two people meeting in the most unlikely way, and finally getting into something good.
The first notions of fairy tales are planted in the most impressionable minds, specifically children. The prince on the horse in your fairy tale rides into your life, slays the opposition, hitches you on back of him and rides off into the sunset. This gets backed up in the teenage years, with MTV feeding constant crap about chic teens finding romance amongst their peers at school. Finally it starts happening to your friends and family, the stories told around the camp fire or at holidays about how they met and how different life has been for the past few months.
And I'm not even talking 'true love' here. I'm just talking about a boyfriend.
I am left with the pessimistic notion that Mother Goose got it wrong, and that these inconsistent random-acts-of-God are just that, completely random. So, do fairy tales really come true?
I don't need to tell you all about the vast number of us who are sexually frustrated, relationship deprived or painfully single. For whatever reason, we are not able to meet the 'right person', or at times meet 'any person' who gives us the slightest pull of attraction. We trudge through life, either having random sexual encounters because we can, or simply not having any sex or meeting any randoms at all.
Some days we play the defiant role, thumbing our noses at Fate and laughing at our misfortunes. After all, the life of a single is so satisfying! We can eat what and when we please, sleep as long as we want, are free to make whatever evening plans we see fit, and can go home with practically anyone with only our sometimes-disapproving friends to deal with.
Most days, we sing a different tune. While coupledom can seem as oppressive as a Hitler-type dictatorial system, ultimately the pros outweigh the cons. After all, if you're hot for the boy you're seeing, why would it matter when you eat, or where, or what you do that night, or what time he rolls you over in the morning?
This is all somewhat (very) biased, because I am cycling into another I-hate-being-single phase. It irks me, sending thoughts of inadequacy dancing through my head, and sometimes spews venomous comments at people who are happily coupled (those bastards). So my rosy outlook on happy couples is somewhat unwarranted and heavily romanticized.
But it's just so difficult, when one is in this mood, to hear the most amazing stories of others and their sudden and often unexpected happiness. When you're at peace with being single, it simply makes you feel all warm and fuzzy inside, and you find yourself whispering softly to yourself, "Isn't that sweet for them!" (Either way, be you envious of them or overcome with tears of joy for them, the undercurrent of congratulations and goodwill towards them remains the same.)
Case in point #1: a certain blogger named Tim who's fairytale romance with his boyfriend started even before he was out. Just as he's coming to grips with the whole gay thing, he finds out the cute boy from across the hall has a thing for Tim. Add some amazingly-well-timed social events, as well as some margaritas and a slightly meddling friend who alerts Tim to the whole situation, and magically a new fairytale is born. And still going strong. (Lucky bastard.)
Case in point #2: The Wilde American is living in the wasteland known as Portland, OR. While attending the pride parade, he ends up snapping the photo of a sexy guy in the crowd. What started with a simple, random event turned into a fairytale with enough oomph to make plans to move back to Los Angeles (though not to live together), and pursue both opportunities for love and money on the sunny shoreline.
What do these two cases prove? That indeed, fairy tales not only present themselves, they follow through.
It gives great hope to those of us clutching pillows in our empty beds that someday this may be bestowed upon us, and that we can break the cycle of singledom and unsatisfaction. After all, here is proof that good things indeed happen to good people, when you never expect it. You can breathe a little easier knowing that maybe your number is going to be called soon, and a series of somewhat random events will present themselves and thrust you into scenarios you never dreamed you would be in.
Of course, you snap back to reality. Wait a minute, you say to yourself. What makes you so sure this is going to happen to you anyway? I mean, if you haven't had much luck lately, why will it turn around for you now? This is all just what you said, a fairytale: 'Something That Happens To Other People'.
That is, of course, the angsty-singledom talking. But it does make you wonder. Under what conditions do these fairy tales bud and grow? Are they to be cultivated by years of unhappy and incompatible dates and sexual encounters, becoming frustratedly content in permanent single status? Do you have to plant the seeds yourself, and if so, how? By wildly throwing shells in the garden of your social circles, hoping that one may sprout and grow into something? Or do they simply fall from the sky, something so out of our grasp that we cannot them under any circumstance.
We often approach life with the notion that if you work hard enough, you will be rewarded. You don't like your job, so you try harder than before to get the promotion. Your grades need to be higher, so you put in the extra research to impress your professor. Even if you dislike your body, you make changes in your diet and exercises to get where you want to be. But what about romance? Are there really fairy tales, or are these random acts of happiness that only some get to enjoy?
Monday, August 27, 2007
Friday, August 24, 2007
Tech update...
I'm in need of new technology.
Well, not 'need', but desire.
All my life I had one computer. For majority of that time, it has been a Pentium III 500mhz beast. Well, used to be a beast. Now it's just a prehistoric beast. When I went to school two years ago, I knew I needed a new computer, and made the switch to a Mac. Now I've got my PC of roughly 10 years, and my Mac of 3 years.
This summer has made me incredibly frustrated when working on my PC. It freezes under the slightest conditions, can't play videos that are larger than 1/7th of the screen, and generally suffers from being very old. I've reinstalled Windows to clear up clutter in the registry, but sadly it's become bogged down again.
When my mom was checking her e-mail the other day, she noticed that while she was typing, the words took several second to translate from the keyboard to the screen. She asked if there was a problem, and I reminded her how old and out-of-date the beast is and how it'd be really nice if we got something a little newer for the home PC.
Well, this discussion has turned into somewhat of an ongoing thing...resulting in a conversation in the car the other day. I had been drooling over the boy who had passed me in the mall with a brand new iMac...I mean I was drooling over the iMac this guy had...anyway I had mentioned all the updates in the new Mac compared to mine. She seemed genuinely interested, and shocked me when she proclaimed that I should probably just leave my Mac at home and buy a new one.
"Oh, but we don't have any money right now," she said. Why do you tempt me so!?
After ensuring her that yes, it would be a good idea, and discussing the finer details about price, she was much more open to it. Considering she thought it would cost $3000 for a new Mac (how she got that iDea I will never know), and finding out it would be much less, she was almost re-opened to the idea. It was left hanging, as parents often do, with a, "We'll see," type of answer.
(I just looked, and my new Mac will set me back $1764.00. Ouch on my very tapped bank account.)
Anyway all of this is fantasy in my mind, because I really want to retire my PC and not loose all my pages every time I open a new window. Oh, and watch video on more of the screen. All things my current Mac will do effortlessly, and my new Mac will do effortlessly and sexily.
So what are your thoughts? Should I push for a new Mac at this point in time, or wait for an even newer model? And what about their new operating system, when does that all go down and will it be on Mac's sold in September/October?...oh so many questions for a project that will sadly probably not happen.
Well, not 'need', but desire.
All my life I had one computer. For majority of that time, it has been a Pentium III 500mhz beast. Well, used to be a beast. Now it's just a prehistoric beast. When I went to school two years ago, I knew I needed a new computer, and made the switch to a Mac. Now I've got my PC of roughly 10 years, and my Mac of 3 years.
This summer has made me incredibly frustrated when working on my PC. It freezes under the slightest conditions, can't play videos that are larger than 1/7th of the screen, and generally suffers from being very old. I've reinstalled Windows to clear up clutter in the registry, but sadly it's become bogged down again.
When my mom was checking her e-mail the other day, she noticed that while she was typing, the words took several second to translate from the keyboard to the screen. She asked if there was a problem, and I reminded her how old and out-of-date the beast is and how it'd be really nice if we got something a little newer for the home PC.
Well, this discussion has turned into somewhat of an ongoing thing...resulting in a conversation in the car the other day. I had been drooling over the boy who had passed me in the mall with a brand new iMac...I mean I was drooling over the iMac this guy had...anyway I had mentioned all the updates in the new Mac compared to mine. She seemed genuinely interested, and shocked me when she proclaimed that I should probably just leave my Mac at home and buy a new one.
"Oh, but we don't have any money right now," she said. Why do you tempt me so!?
After ensuring her that yes, it would be a good idea, and discussing the finer details about price, she was much more open to it. Considering she thought it would cost $3000 for a new Mac (how she got that iDea I will never know), and finding out it would be much less, she was almost re-opened to the idea. It was left hanging, as parents often do, with a, "We'll see," type of answer.
(I just looked, and my new Mac will set me back $1764.00. Ouch on my very tapped bank account.)
Anyway all of this is fantasy in my mind, because I really want to retire my PC and not loose all my pages every time I open a new window. Oh, and watch video on more of the screen. All things my current Mac will do effortlessly, and my new Mac will do effortlessly and sexily.
So what are your thoughts? Should I push for a new Mac at this point in time, or wait for an even newer model? And what about their new operating system, when does that all go down and will it be on Mac's sold in September/October?...oh so many questions for a project that will sadly probably not happen.
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
But all the kids have them...
I've been seeing a lot of these lately.
Not in person, mind you...never actually pulled these off anybody (yet), but they seem to be everywhere online. I've seen them in more porn movies than I remember, and in countless pictures. Of all the hot underwear out there, this pair really grabs my attention.
Maybe it's the crisp white and the contrast of the red? Maybe it's the boys who are wearing them? Maybe it's the fact that they really, really contour to the body? Yeah, that's probably it...
Yum. I mean, they look anyone's ass look excellent, mine included. I actually own a pair of these badboys, though not because I'm a fan of the photos. It was a long while ago, while on an underwear binge. I hit up the CK section, and thought they looked kinda cute, kinda hot, and really comfy. Well, they're all three!
Yes, the Calvin Klein Pro-Stretch line is pretty hot (in case you were wondering what they were, exactly). I've only got the boxer-briefs, but I'll be picking up a pair of the briefs at some point soon, and maybe even another pair of what I've got.
I mean, look at them! Just poking out of the top of your pants, they look cute. I dunno, maybe I'm crazy...its almost like they look better on!
Then again...
Not in person, mind you...never actually pulled these off anybody (yet), but they seem to be everywhere online. I've seen them in more porn movies than I remember, and in countless pictures. Of all the hot underwear out there, this pair really grabs my attention.
Maybe it's the crisp white and the contrast of the red? Maybe it's the boys who are wearing them? Maybe it's the fact that they really, really contour to the body? Yeah, that's probably it...
Yum. I mean, they look anyone's ass look excellent, mine included. I actually own a pair of these badboys, though not because I'm a fan of the photos. It was a long while ago, while on an underwear binge. I hit up the CK section, and thought they looked kinda cute, kinda hot, and really comfy. Well, they're all three!
Yes, the Calvin Klein Pro-Stretch line is pretty hot (in case you were wondering what they were, exactly). I've only got the boxer-briefs, but I'll be picking up a pair of the briefs at some point soon, and maybe even another pair of what I've got.
I mean, look at them! Just poking out of the top of your pants, they look cute. I dunno, maybe I'm crazy...its almost like they look better on!
Then again...
Monday, August 20, 2007
Resolutions and Reservations...
I hear this is the first day of classes for college students in the US.
So for all of you who've just moved into Rez, or are home from your first day of class, hats off to you! We're lucky here in Ontario, with most colleges not starting classes until a week into September.
And although it might look like I've moved back to Toronto...I haven't yet. My visit a little while ago was just that, a visit to drop off some things at my new place and pick up some things that had been on hold for far too long. So that means many things, including the fact that I have lots of time still on my hands before heading back to the new grind that will be school.
I'm excited (I think) to get back there, with people I haven't seen in ages, living on my own and maybe making some progress in my life. There are moments that I cannot wait to be gone from home, which are often filled with guilty after-thoughts because I'm by no means restricted while I'm under my parents roof. At the same time, I'm ready to move on and really embrace living on my own.
I'm also getting more and more nervous about going back. There's lots of positive things to look forward to, but also lots of questions about what'll happen this year. Really, it's stupid stuff that's mostly in my head. So I've been doing a New Year's style list of resolutions (and reservations).
Resolutions:
-Not visit home as much as I did, forcing myself to actually make plans on weekends, be they visiting friends in other cities or doing things with friends in Toronto
-Cook more for myself so as to follow better dietary guidelines
-Plan and execute a great Christmas party that people will actually remember
-Celebrate my birthday by actually doing something
-Expand my social circles to include some semi-regular activities with both new and old friends...bottom line, get out more
-When not getting out more, actually spend time doing nothing with other people
-Make some progress with the whole 'gay' thing
-Actually make gay friend(s) and enjoy gay social life
-Make attempts to date
-Be 'out'
-Experience the gay culture, including finally going to a gay club/bar
-Start some sort of part-time job to make spending money and attempt to become more a part of Toronto the city
-Pick up a new hobby that I've never had before, something that provides time away from home and enjoyment
-Become involved with something campus related, be it a school group or volunteer position within the university; if not:
-Take up a volunteer position somewhere in Toronto
Reservations (and general paranoia):
-My friends won't remember me (Steve who?), or will give me the cold shoulder because we haven't spoken in months
-The roommate thing will be a disaster (again)
-I'll wind up as unhappy and depressed about life as I did during the worst days of last semester
-My grades won't be as good as I want them to be, impacting my future grad school plans
-I'll wind up alone, as always, be that socially or romantically
-Somehow I'll screw up the gay thing and make no progress
-I won't follow through with any of my resolutions and wind up as bored as last year
So there you have it...from reading that, I'd say I'm really quite excited to go back to school, but have this nervous, overhanging cloud about the whole thing, with now concrete reasons (other than past experience). I want to say that I'm totally positive about going back, but that's really not the case. I want to be, but there's a nagging in the back of my mind.
Especially when it comes to my friends. At the end of last semester I was branching out, meeting new people and actually maintaining some fairly good social events with them. But that all came to a screeching halt this summer. Part of the blame goes on my shoulders, because I have done little to keep the lines of communication open. But the other half rests on the shoulders of my friends, who too have not gone the extra mile to keep in touch.
Whatever the case may be, I'll soon be in my new apartment and starting classes. My schedule is decent, with very full Mondays to Thursdays, but having Fridays off (which could be a mixed blessing).
At any rate, it should prove to be an interesting year...who knows, maybe I'll be spending some time in my old dorm with a new friend.
So for all of you who've just moved into Rez, or are home from your first day of class, hats off to you! We're lucky here in Ontario, with most colleges not starting classes until a week into September.
And although it might look like I've moved back to Toronto...I haven't yet. My visit a little while ago was just that, a visit to drop off some things at my new place and pick up some things that had been on hold for far too long. So that means many things, including the fact that I have lots of time still on my hands before heading back to the new grind that will be school.
I'm excited (I think) to get back there, with people I haven't seen in ages, living on my own and maybe making some progress in my life. There are moments that I cannot wait to be gone from home, which are often filled with guilty after-thoughts because I'm by no means restricted while I'm under my parents roof. At the same time, I'm ready to move on and really embrace living on my own.
I'm also getting more and more nervous about going back. There's lots of positive things to look forward to, but also lots of questions about what'll happen this year. Really, it's stupid stuff that's mostly in my head. So I've been doing a New Year's style list of resolutions (and reservations).
Resolutions:
-Not visit home as much as I did, forcing myself to actually make plans on weekends, be they visiting friends in other cities or doing things with friends in Toronto
-Cook more for myself so as to follow better dietary guidelines
-Plan and execute a great Christmas party that people will actually remember
-Celebrate my birthday by actually doing something
-Expand my social circles to include some semi-regular activities with both new and old friends...bottom line, get out more
-When not getting out more, actually spend time doing nothing with other people
-Make some progress with the whole 'gay' thing
-Actually make gay friend(s) and enjoy gay social life
-Make attempts to date
-Be 'out'
-Experience the gay culture, including finally going to a gay club/bar
-Start some sort of part-time job to make spending money and attempt to become more a part of Toronto the city
-Pick up a new hobby that I've never had before, something that provides time away from home and enjoyment
-Become involved with something campus related, be it a school group or volunteer position within the university; if not:
-Take up a volunteer position somewhere in Toronto
Reservations (and general paranoia):
-My friends won't remember me (Steve who?), or will give me the cold shoulder because we haven't spoken in months
-The roommate thing will be a disaster (again)
-I'll wind up as unhappy and depressed about life as I did during the worst days of last semester
-My grades won't be as good as I want them to be, impacting my future grad school plans
-I'll wind up alone, as always, be that socially or romantically
-Somehow I'll screw up the gay thing and make no progress
-I won't follow through with any of my resolutions and wind up as bored as last year
So there you have it...from reading that, I'd say I'm really quite excited to go back to school, but have this nervous, overhanging cloud about the whole thing, with now concrete reasons (other than past experience). I want to say that I'm totally positive about going back, but that's really not the case. I want to be, but there's a nagging in the back of my mind.
Especially when it comes to my friends. At the end of last semester I was branching out, meeting new people and actually maintaining some fairly good social events with them. But that all came to a screeching halt this summer. Part of the blame goes on my shoulders, because I have done little to keep the lines of communication open. But the other half rests on the shoulders of my friends, who too have not gone the extra mile to keep in touch.
Whatever the case may be, I'll soon be in my new apartment and starting classes. My schedule is decent, with very full Mondays to Thursdays, but having Fridays off (which could be a mixed blessing).
At any rate, it should prove to be an interesting year...who knows, maybe I'll be spending some time in my old dorm with a new friend.
Sunday, August 19, 2007
The runup to...
September, just around the corner.
So much to be said about it. So much to reflect on. So much that still needs to happen.
But none of that at the moment...I have one more frivolous post first.
Flash back to Friday night, sitting in a semi-circle with a bunch of friends from high school, celebrating a birthday. Things are going well, if not a little slowly, but we all end the evening on a good note. I arrive home to an empty house, get naked (because it's just so damn comfortable) and check my messages.
I'm not anal about checking my 'gay sites' messages, because not only am I unable to just randomly meet people when I please, I rarely get messaged. But tonight, my inbox has a number beside it. Mildly interesting.
I check what's there, one of which is a proposition from an older gentleman. Next, I read a small snippit from someone, and am intrigued.
It was just a simple "hey" message, but the profile attached to it was anything but ordinary. It made me laugh out loud, and the picture made me smile. Rosy cheeks, cute lips...witty one-sided banter in the text box. And I'm sold.
So naturally, I message back, not really expecting to hear anything more. Flash forward to late Saturday afternoon, just arriving home from a lateish lunch with people and eager to check my inbox.
What transpires over the next hour, via several intermittent messages, was semi-flirtatious, courteous and intelligent banter. It was fun, and lit that small flicker of hope, leaving me wanting more talk. What was nice is the fact he acknowledges he doesn't want 'just sex'. Really, nowhere is sex mentioned.
Again this afternoon after getting home, I check my inbox to find yet another interesting profile response. Same situation, another guy who specifically does not mention the desire for sex. Responding to me, because I have written the same thing.
But these guys trap you in a corner so unlike the hookup ads. With the just sex searches, it's simply a matter of finding a body you like, who'll do the things you want done to you, and the hard part is over. Not so with the nice guys.
Throughout the messages back-and-forth with the first guy, I can't honestly say what he's looking for, mostly because he didn't himself. It was mentioned that he dropped me a line because of our close ages, thinking that we'd have more in common than with others. I agree, but for what exactly? A friend to have coffee with? Or a date for next Friday night?...
Truly impossible to tell, because the ambiguity of the online written word means that one can be both flirtatious and completely aloof at the same time. Couple that with the anxious, over-analytical mind on the receiving end, and the truth often gets washed away in a torrent of scenarios playing out in the imagination.
Why it can't simply say, "Lets have coffee and discuss this further," is understandable but frustrating. And it makes it difficult to determine when the appropriate moment a flirtatious comment should be made for fear of coming off as the typical oversexed male.
It surprises and delights me to see this increase in interest in me, even though I have changed nothing in my profile for months. Whats more, with it being so close to September, I can hopefully keep this streak of good things coming long enough to perhaps take advantage of it.
So much to be said about it. So much to reflect on. So much that still needs to happen.
But none of that at the moment...I have one more frivolous post first.
Flash back to Friday night, sitting in a semi-circle with a bunch of friends from high school, celebrating a birthday. Things are going well, if not a little slowly, but we all end the evening on a good note. I arrive home to an empty house, get naked (because it's just so damn comfortable) and check my messages.
I'm not anal about checking my 'gay sites' messages, because not only am I unable to just randomly meet people when I please, I rarely get messaged. But tonight, my inbox has a number beside it. Mildly interesting.
I check what's there, one of which is a proposition from an older gentleman. Next, I read a small snippit from someone, and am intrigued.
It was just a simple "hey" message, but the profile attached to it was anything but ordinary. It made me laugh out loud, and the picture made me smile. Rosy cheeks, cute lips...witty one-sided banter in the text box. And I'm sold.
So naturally, I message back, not really expecting to hear anything more. Flash forward to late Saturday afternoon, just arriving home from a lateish lunch with people and eager to check my inbox.
What transpires over the next hour, via several intermittent messages, was semi-flirtatious, courteous and intelligent banter. It was fun, and lit that small flicker of hope, leaving me wanting more talk. What was nice is the fact he acknowledges he doesn't want 'just sex'. Really, nowhere is sex mentioned.
Again this afternoon after getting home, I check my inbox to find yet another interesting profile response. Same situation, another guy who specifically does not mention the desire for sex. Responding to me, because I have written the same thing.
But these guys trap you in a corner so unlike the hookup ads. With the just sex searches, it's simply a matter of finding a body you like, who'll do the things you want done to you, and the hard part is over. Not so with the nice guys.
Throughout the messages back-and-forth with the first guy, I can't honestly say what he's looking for, mostly because he didn't himself. It was mentioned that he dropped me a line because of our close ages, thinking that we'd have more in common than with others. I agree, but for what exactly? A friend to have coffee with? Or a date for next Friday night?...
Truly impossible to tell, because the ambiguity of the online written word means that one can be both flirtatious and completely aloof at the same time. Couple that with the anxious, over-analytical mind on the receiving end, and the truth often gets washed away in a torrent of scenarios playing out in the imagination.
Why it can't simply say, "Lets have coffee and discuss this further," is understandable but frustrating. And it makes it difficult to determine when the appropriate moment a flirtatious comment should be made for fear of coming off as the typical oversexed male.
It surprises and delights me to see this increase in interest in me, even though I have changed nothing in my profile for months. Whats more, with it being so close to September, I can hopefully keep this streak of good things coming long enough to perhaps take advantage of it.
Friday, August 17, 2007
Sirens and bloodstains...
I got scared last night.
The prickly, surreal fright that crawls up your arms and ices over your chest. And worst of all, it was totally unexpected.
I'd been out playing pool with a few friends, and had just stopped in the drive-thru to get a coffee before making the trek home. The drive through sits facing a bank of stores across the road, and as I waited for my cup I gazed through the few fledgling trees to the action on the other side of the road.
What I saw terrified me. Not only because of it's horrible reality, but the fact of where it was happening.
There, on the sidewalk in broad electric light was a guy getting the shit kicked out of him.
I sat, slack jawed as the branches of the tree obstructed my view. Could this really be happening? Have I been reading too much crazy fiction that I'm imagining this?
For a moment I thought of telling the coffee girl to call 911, but scrapped the idea. What if I was wrong? What if that group of guys standing there, yelling and dancing around, weren't actually hitting each other?
But as I crept forward, following the paved path out of the coffee shop drive-thru, I knew I was right. There, two guys were pinning the arms of a third back, while a fourth hurled punches into his chest.
My jaw was still hanging. My brain could not compute what was happening. Such insanity, here, in the town next to mine. The sleepy little town where everyone walks home at 2 a.m., safe and sound. Not to mention the poor guy who was taking the brunt of this mindless violence.
"Christ," I breathed.
Suddenly, a guy flashed in front of my bumper, madly running toward the action. I nearly hit him, not looking forward but fixed on the scene across two lanes of pavement. I braked, then rolled forward, then slammed on the brakes again, completely oblivious to the world around me.
Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out my phone, mashing the keys, trying to call CrimeStoppers. For those who don't know, it's a service some municipalities have, an anonymous tip line you can call to report crime, without having to go through the red tape of 911.
My first attempt failed. "Your call cannot be completed as dialed," the stoic voice said. "Please hang up and try your call again."
"FUCK!" I yelled. I checked, and had added a bunch of extra digits to the number. By now my heart was racing, and my fingers trembled as they mashed the keyboard. Finally, after double-checking the number, I hit send.
"Crimestoppers," came the woman's voice.
"I need to report an assault in progress," I shouted. "At the (blank) Variety, across from the Tim Hortons, in (blank)."
A moment passed. "OK, what's going on?" I was too out of it to come back with anything cutting, but if I recall correctly, I just said there was an assault in progress. Kinda serious.
"Uh...some guy is being held by two other guys and being punched, it looks like."
"Oh. I'll get someone out there right away," she replied, then disconnected.
And that was it. The call lasted roughly 30 seconds. Now what?
By then I was sitting in a parking lot a short distance from the scene. Should I go back, wait closer to the store? What more can I do!? I sat for a few more seconds, but realized I was pretty powerless. No other friends to help, no cops in view, no shotgun in the trunk...
Tearing out of the parking lot, I put the windows down listening to the roar of the engine. Cold breeze slapped my face and the radio thumped David Bowie's 'China Girl' as I tried to get my mind back into reality. Jesus Christ, that was insane.
I started to shake, part from the cold air, part from the genuine shock of what I'd just seen. Maybe this is common in your city, or your suburb, but not here. Things like this just don't happen here. What's worse, I knew with sickening truth that it wasn't just a bar fight between two disgruntled guys.
The area has been in a sharp decline over the past two years, with the youth becoming ever more restless and jaded. They dress in homeboy clothes, sit in parking lots blasting rap, smoking joints and cat calling to the girls who walk by. This doesn't include the majority of the young people in the area, really it's a small faction of them...but it's the most volatile percentage. And I was pretty sure what I'd seen was a confrontation between two groups of youths. Like I said, these guys didn't look like they'd just come from the bar down the street, and the guy I nearly ran over was running from the hang-out parking lot.
After I stopped shaking, about halfway home, I started getting pissed off. This isn't supposed to happen in our community, and I'm not putting up with this shit. It's not the majority that's involved, but it ends up being everyone's problem if there are going to be random fights in the streets. And I'm not letting these guys ruin what everyone else has enjoyed for so long.
I still don't know when the police arrived, or if anyone was arrested, or if the guy getting beat on was checked out by a paramedic. Probably, I'll never know. But I know from now on, I'm never going to let this shit slide again.
"I'll ruin everything you are..."
The prickly, surreal fright that crawls up your arms and ices over your chest. And worst of all, it was totally unexpected.
I'd been out playing pool with a few friends, and had just stopped in the drive-thru to get a coffee before making the trek home. The drive through sits facing a bank of stores across the road, and as I waited for my cup I gazed through the few fledgling trees to the action on the other side of the road.
What I saw terrified me. Not only because of it's horrible reality, but the fact of where it was happening.
There, on the sidewalk in broad electric light was a guy getting the shit kicked out of him.
I sat, slack jawed as the branches of the tree obstructed my view. Could this really be happening? Have I been reading too much crazy fiction that I'm imagining this?
For a moment I thought of telling the coffee girl to call 911, but scrapped the idea. What if I was wrong? What if that group of guys standing there, yelling and dancing around, weren't actually hitting each other?
But as I crept forward, following the paved path out of the coffee shop drive-thru, I knew I was right. There, two guys were pinning the arms of a third back, while a fourth hurled punches into his chest.
My jaw was still hanging. My brain could not compute what was happening. Such insanity, here, in the town next to mine. The sleepy little town where everyone walks home at 2 a.m., safe and sound. Not to mention the poor guy who was taking the brunt of this mindless violence.
"Christ," I breathed.
Suddenly, a guy flashed in front of my bumper, madly running toward the action. I nearly hit him, not looking forward but fixed on the scene across two lanes of pavement. I braked, then rolled forward, then slammed on the brakes again, completely oblivious to the world around me.
Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out my phone, mashing the keys, trying to call CrimeStoppers. For those who don't know, it's a service some municipalities have, an anonymous tip line you can call to report crime, without having to go through the red tape of 911.
My first attempt failed. "Your call cannot be completed as dialed," the stoic voice said. "Please hang up and try your call again."
"FUCK!" I yelled. I checked, and had added a bunch of extra digits to the number. By now my heart was racing, and my fingers trembled as they mashed the keyboard. Finally, after double-checking the number, I hit send.
"Crimestoppers," came the woman's voice.
"I need to report an assault in progress," I shouted. "At the (blank) Variety, across from the Tim Hortons, in (blank)."
A moment passed. "OK, what's going on?" I was too out of it to come back with anything cutting, but if I recall correctly, I just said there was an assault in progress. Kinda serious.
"Uh...some guy is being held by two other guys and being punched, it looks like."
"Oh. I'll get someone out there right away," she replied, then disconnected.
And that was it. The call lasted roughly 30 seconds. Now what?
By then I was sitting in a parking lot a short distance from the scene. Should I go back, wait closer to the store? What more can I do!? I sat for a few more seconds, but realized I was pretty powerless. No other friends to help, no cops in view, no shotgun in the trunk...
Tearing out of the parking lot, I put the windows down listening to the roar of the engine. Cold breeze slapped my face and the radio thumped David Bowie's 'China Girl' as I tried to get my mind back into reality. Jesus Christ, that was insane.
I started to shake, part from the cold air, part from the genuine shock of what I'd just seen. Maybe this is common in your city, or your suburb, but not here. Things like this just don't happen here. What's worse, I knew with sickening truth that it wasn't just a bar fight between two disgruntled guys.
The area has been in a sharp decline over the past two years, with the youth becoming ever more restless and jaded. They dress in homeboy clothes, sit in parking lots blasting rap, smoking joints and cat calling to the girls who walk by. This doesn't include the majority of the young people in the area, really it's a small faction of them...but it's the most volatile percentage. And I was pretty sure what I'd seen was a confrontation between two groups of youths. Like I said, these guys didn't look like they'd just come from the bar down the street, and the guy I nearly ran over was running from the hang-out parking lot.
After I stopped shaking, about halfway home, I started getting pissed off. This isn't supposed to happen in our community, and I'm not putting up with this shit. It's not the majority that's involved, but it ends up being everyone's problem if there are going to be random fights in the streets. And I'm not letting these guys ruin what everyone else has enjoyed for so long.
I still don't know when the police arrived, or if anyone was arrested, or if the guy getting beat on was checked out by a paramedic. Probably, I'll never know. But I know from now on, I'm never going to let this shit slide again.
"I'll ruin everything you are..."
Eggshells...
Everything is walking on eggshells.
Most specifically, it's my 'out' status. I'm out to nearly all the important people in my life, save my father and a few friends. But I find myself walking on eggshells, remembering who knows, who doesn't and who ought to find out next.
What's worse is how my friend act with it. Really, they do nothing wrong, and have been completely supportive and tight-lipped about it. We had dinner in a group last week and I had assumed person X had told her boyfriend and my mutual friend Y, because I never specifically said, "Don't tell anybody!" when I came out to her. So I had a little voice in the back of my head, unsure of censoring some topics of conversation. Since nothing about sexuality came up for quite a while, I carried on the assumption that he in fact might know.
Then he asked me something about, "Women, haha," and I knew he didn't know. Later I asked X if she's said anything, and she was horrified.
"No, never! I'm not going to blab it around town," she said reassuringly.
In many ways, I could not ask for better friends. People who understand that it's a delicate issue, and that it's not something I want to fly through the gossip mill. I've seen it done to another of our friends, and it's just not right.
But at the same time, it feels like the coming out process is being hindered by everyone being so careful about it. Many of the reasons lie in the location right now; I don't want it spread all over small-town-bum-fuck-nowhere. It's more to protect my family than it is for me, because I don't plan on living here the rest of my life.
So will it be any different in Toronto? When I go back to school, what'll happen with my continued adventures in coming out? Do I have to literally greet every friend with, "Good to see you! How was summer? Oh and I'm gay..."?
I always harken back to my belief that my sexuality isn't my entire personality. The people I have gotten to know know me as a friend, not as a love interest, so really my sexual status isn't exactly important to our relationships. Still, if you don't tell everyone, then you are assumed to be straight...
The other weekend someone was at a party with friends from highschool. Nobody was around, save the host, his girlfriend, and my new roommate, and the host asked about me, how I was, was I seeing anybody...was I big on women...
"Why'd he as that?" I said. This is a guy who I maybe talked to twice in school.
"Oh, just curious about you, because we're living together and everything. I dunno, he liked you fine in High School."
"That's because I didn't talk to him more than three times."
"True enough, but aren't those the people you actually still like from high school?"
She was actually going to tell him, "Well, Steve's coming out right now, so he's not really into too many women," but she stopped herself.
"I just didn't know if that would be ok," she said. "He wouldn't gossip about it, and it was only the three of us there, but still it's kinda personal..."
Very sweet of her to keep it under wraps, but ultimately is it helping my situation?
Being at whatever stage I am of the closet, I'm getting more and more frustrated. In many ways I just want it to be over, to be out and to actually maybe finally carry on with 'normal' life. But I still have reservations about broadcasting it on Facebook, or telling every person I know, or having others spread the news.
Hell, I don't even know where I stand on the 'out' scale. Obviously I'm out to some family and close friends, but that's where it ends (I think, anyway). So how 'out' is that? And what do I have to do next, so I can walk confidently into the next stage of my life, not tip-toe, afraid of breaking any eggshells?
Most specifically, it's my 'out' status. I'm out to nearly all the important people in my life, save my father and a few friends. But I find myself walking on eggshells, remembering who knows, who doesn't and who ought to find out next.
What's worse is how my friend act with it. Really, they do nothing wrong, and have been completely supportive and tight-lipped about it. We had dinner in a group last week and I had assumed person X had told her boyfriend and my mutual friend Y, because I never specifically said, "Don't tell anybody!" when I came out to her. So I had a little voice in the back of my head, unsure of censoring some topics of conversation. Since nothing about sexuality came up for quite a while, I carried on the assumption that he in fact might know.
Then he asked me something about, "Women, haha," and I knew he didn't know. Later I asked X if she's said anything, and she was horrified.
"No, never! I'm not going to blab it around town," she said reassuringly.
In many ways, I could not ask for better friends. People who understand that it's a delicate issue, and that it's not something I want to fly through the gossip mill. I've seen it done to another of our friends, and it's just not right.
But at the same time, it feels like the coming out process is being hindered by everyone being so careful about it. Many of the reasons lie in the location right now; I don't want it spread all over small-town-bum-fuck-nowhere. It's more to protect my family than it is for me, because I don't plan on living here the rest of my life.
So will it be any different in Toronto? When I go back to school, what'll happen with my continued adventures in coming out? Do I have to literally greet every friend with, "Good to see you! How was summer? Oh and I'm gay..."?
I always harken back to my belief that my sexuality isn't my entire personality. The people I have gotten to know know me as a friend, not as a love interest, so really my sexual status isn't exactly important to our relationships. Still, if you don't tell everyone, then you are assumed to be straight...
The other weekend someone was at a party with friends from highschool. Nobody was around, save the host, his girlfriend, and my new roommate, and the host asked about me, how I was, was I seeing anybody...was I big on women...
"Why'd he as that?" I said. This is a guy who I maybe talked to twice in school.
"Oh, just curious about you, because we're living together and everything. I dunno, he liked you fine in High School."
"That's because I didn't talk to him more than three times."
"True enough, but aren't those the people you actually still like from high school?"
She was actually going to tell him, "Well, Steve's coming out right now, so he's not really into too many women," but she stopped herself.
"I just didn't know if that would be ok," she said. "He wouldn't gossip about it, and it was only the three of us there, but still it's kinda personal..."
Very sweet of her to keep it under wraps, but ultimately is it helping my situation?
Being at whatever stage I am of the closet, I'm getting more and more frustrated. In many ways I just want it to be over, to be out and to actually maybe finally carry on with 'normal' life. But I still have reservations about broadcasting it on Facebook, or telling every person I know, or having others spread the news.
Hell, I don't even know where I stand on the 'out' scale. Obviously I'm out to some family and close friends, but that's where it ends (I think, anyway). So how 'out' is that? And what do I have to do next, so I can walk confidently into the next stage of my life, not tip-toe, afraid of breaking any eggshells?
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