I just have to say: It's pushing 4:oo am. Ever thought I wasn't fully committed to this blog?
Well, my medicine clearly says "no alcohol" on it...but how could I resist a few glasses of champagne? I mean, it's New Year's Eve! Maybe this is the reason why I found myself, at 3:00 am in a pizza shop in the Tenderloin with two friends, sobbing my eyes out. We started out talking about a mutual acquaintance who I felt had rejected me when I said I didn't want to date him. And suddenly, I was being asked the usual questions: "So do you EVER want to have sex?" "Do you masturbate?" "You can understand why this is hard for us to get, right?" "Are you in therapy?" One friend said, "How can you be asexual when I'm afraid to have sex too?" Pardon me if I misunderstand, but that seems sort of like asking, "how can you be brunette when I'm blonde?"
Oddly enough, the situation reminded me of the time I'd seen "Edward Scissorhands" and started crying uncontrollably. Sure, the movie was quite sad, but it acted as a catalyst for my sadness about a host of other things. It was the most I'd cried in years, and I guess those few glasses of champagne had the same effect. All my confusion and frustration about being a 1% in the land of 99%s just poured out. As bad as I feel for dampening our evening, hopefully it was a catharsis that I needed. Maybe I can emerge stronger on the other side. This is what I'm listening to as I write this:
"I've been a student all my life
And this is what I've learned about girls:
They're not too hard to find
But they make you feel worse.
At the age of 24, I can't stand anymore..."
--Unidentified song from the "Grimsby Fishmarket 4, Norrkoeping 0" compilation.
Here's to next year feeling better than we ever felt before.