Hyperopia

I often have trouble attending to the details in life. I’d definitely consider myself a big picture kind of guy. It’s on odd sort of hyperopia. It certainly has its benefits. One of the reasons people think I’m so smart is that I see connections and patterns that other people miss. I see them, because I’m always focusing on them. But it also has its downsides. Leaving aside the prozaic difficulties of my oft missing keys, glasses, and wallet, there are the larger concerns. “I’m going away in 3 weeks, why should I go out and have fun? In the long run, it’s not like I’ll be seeing much of these people, cool though they are.” Then there’s the shit I give myself for not going to the gym, given its clear long run payoff for short term discomfort, boredom, and sacrificed time.

Sometimes it helps to take my eyes off the prize. Every once in awhile. It’s just that, when I do, I have trouble focusing.

Latter Days

I’ve been wanting to see Latter Days for awhile now. I could swear I remember recommending it. Or maybe disrecommending it… Anyway what better time to watch it, then when I’m flying so that I can distract myself from irrational anxieties? I think the movie rocks. It may even be in the lower echelon of my favorite 10. Probably not the top ten best movies ever, but I had a number of themes I found very appealing. The skin factor gave me a moment or two of discomfort playing it on the plane next to a mother whose son was sitting just on the other side of her, but oh well.

Latter Days is the story of a mormon missionary and a gay waiter tramp. boy meets boy, and… *spoilers*

sex and the single scu

Yeah, so I’ve been single since March 16, 2002, no news there. I’ve been gay.com and m4m4sex.com free for at least 8 or 9 months. Well, maybe not totally free, but I haven’t hooked up from either since then. And I’ve spent less than 10 hours total over the past 8 months on gay.com & m4m, so that’s an enormous drop. My mmorpg’ing picked up sharply at that time, but has since declined. My sex life abruptly dropped when I self-diagnosed warts, and I haven’t completely healed since the surgery. That’s bad, and atypical. I need to be taking better care of my butt. More fiber, more ointment, more advil, and more post-dump baths (not exactly practical at work).

But this combines to make for a much less eventful sex life for me. I’ve had maybe 6 partners since november. I’m sure most of my lj acquaintances think that’s pretty high. Consider that only one of those people have I slept with more than once, and with him, I believe it was twice. Maybe that’s still high for most, but not for me.

I’m content with this. I’ve had enough sex partners to last a lifetime really. I suspect I’ll have a few more and that’s cool too. But if I were to find someone suitable, even someone I’ve slept with before, and settle down with them for the remainder of my life, I could be cool with that.

I feel like I was a bit over the top with my drooling over the straight guys at the wedding. My friends are safe, I have established patterns with them, which include joking about buttsex with them, but which safely neutralize any attraction. However, with new people, the ruts are less well worn. And I feel the pull of neat-new-person attraction. And, being me, I don’t shut up about it. And soon, I’m that horny nerd who’ll never get any, because he can’t stop running his mouth about it. *shrug*. It’s a theory.

I’m picky, but also bad at selling myself. And usually, too eager-puppy with guys I am attracted to. *shrug* Another theory.

The reason I picked up so much on gay.com isn’t because I’m uberhot, or because I dazzled them with my wit, but because getting laid through gay.com is more a matter of patience and persistence (and it doesn’t take nearly so much as hetero dating does) than a matter of demonstrating personal worth. Not to say I don’t have a lot going for me, but to say that it wasn’t the bits of myself that I most like that got me laid, it was going to the right environment that got me laid. And being a bit out of character there.

I’ve criticized a number of guys for doing things online that they’d never do in person. Ignoring a hello, leaving a conversation without saying anything, jumping to the worst conclusions about anything anyone says. I did a little of all of that, but my most frequent deviation from real life behavior was my outgoing online nature. I’d say hello to strangers as they entered the room. I wouldn’t let one person’s rejection, no matter how brutal or passive aggressive, stop me from talking to someone else. It reminds me of the king of the hill episode where the kid meets his girlfriend at the shoe store. In person, I get one rejection and I curl up into a fetal ball. (Sometimes literally, but basically never immediately).

I would not hit on guy after guy in a bar until I found one willing to go home with me.

I’ve tried squeezing attraction out of affection, and it hasn’t worked. I’ve tried increasing volume of inductees, in hopes of finding a good one that’ll stick. That didn’t really work either and it certainly wasn’t worth the cost.

Current strategy is to build up a comfortable social circle and either see what comes of it, or see if my carefully built nest draws one in to start a mating dance. And even if the distant goal isn’t achieved, the proximate goal is well worth it.

Must Give Us Pause

So, I had a couple of stop-and-think-about-it moments today.

The first was with someone who works in a different group from me. I really don’t know him, but I was carrying my new cell phone back from the post office (yay new cell phone, yay lower phone bills), and we got on the subject of accidental dialing, (new phone is a flip up, old phone was not). And he said something about accidentally dialing my mother while making out with my girlfriend. I found it amusing on two levels, and I was laughing, and I thought that not so long ago, I would have felt compelled to inform him that girlfriends weren’t likely for me, but this time it didn’t really matter to me. As a point of ettiquette, not sure quite what “the right thing” to do there is, but I don’t regard it as terribly important.

Shortly after this, as I was walking to grab lunch, I heard the annual “X person died, at age Y in year Z, at concentration camp A” litany. I did some quick math, and figured that by now, the people she listed while I was walking past would be 70-odd years old, those that didn’t die in some other way. I’m not saying that this wasn’t important, and hasn’t had important consequences down the line, but will we continue to mourn untimely deaths when the individuals would have died years ago anyway? What about centuries?

When we harbor the memory of a wrong done to us personally, it’s called keeping a grudge. In light of the recent events in the middle east, well, collective keeping of grudges doesn’t strike me as a solution to our ills.

Drugs and Happiness

It’s a topic that’s come up on a couple of journal’s of late. In a discussion of standards for boyfriends on virtualexile‘s journal, someone else said they would never associate with anyone who did drugs, and kidkero just posted an intense, in depth, blow by blow of his first, and perhaps last, circuit party weekend. It’s brought up alot of thoughts, and I’m going to ramble on this for a bit.
Continue reading “Drugs and Happiness”

Need for Affirmation

I just got back from San Francisco. I had a great time with some friends out there.

During the trip, I was hanging out with a friend of mine at his place. We were gossipping about what a friend said about a friend, and I brought up a concept bandied about among the local set of friends. This group calls it the matrix (I’ve heard other terms for the same thing from different social circles. I’ve heard it called “the web of shame”, “the snowflake” , and even “the organic molecule”.)

Basically, it’s a way of showing who has slept with whom, blah, blah, blah. On the merest mention of it, my friend, whom I admire greatly, made a noise of disgust. I asked him why, and he said something to the effect of “I’m sure [redacted] is a great guy, but the way some people use this sort of thing to feel better about themselves…” and I can’t remember anything else he said, because that spun my brain off along a totally different avenue.

It’s something I have done, generally decreasingly over the last few years, but it dominated my social interaction with at least three people in the bay area, and influenced several others. It wasn’t about an insatiable sex drive (mine’s actually pretty tame). It’s not about social status, I will talk about it with my friends, but I tell them everything, especially the embarrassing stuff.

I suppose it could be Mark’s boredom theory, but making an ass out myself isn’t terribly entertaining. Especially when it generates all this conflict: I blew a night of sleep, later I all but ran back to the place I was staying where I sat on the floor with my back against the door, in the dark, wracking my brain to figure out what I was doing wrong, where I screwed up, why I am losing a game I care about, a game I’ve been working at and care about, something so many people seem to have working with no such internal conflict.

I feel like most of my life is really pulling together. I’m into my classes. I like my work (not love, but that’s more than I could have said a year ago.) I think public policy is a direction that’ll work for me. I’m healthy. I have great friends. I have a boyfriend, or at least a decent approximation of such, and he’s a great guy, intelligent, attractive, athletic, sweet, and patient. And yet, I’m not really happy. Am I chasing unicorns?

When I was asked by this cute little film student what I needed for a happy life, my answer came with no hesitation. All I needed then, and all I need now is “purpose”. I need something to do. Something with meaning. Something that matters.