Egads, my brain is swimming after I filled up on Bulgogi stew. Too much food has made me groggy. Let’s get some good ol’ stream of consciousness going here.
I went to a Vintage Prom last night. It was a fun event, with an overabundance of good lookin’ folks and even better lookin’ clothes. Some serious style. I arbitrarily decided that I’d be Prom King by the end of the night. Turns out The Secret is wrong and I wasted a wish. I can put Prom King back on my bucket list. I did have a few drinks, and during the Prom King/Queen prize-giving, I cheered avidly for a dude who made his own costume. It was a pinstripe mobster ensemble, and while it looked a little dorky, it was pretty cool that this old dude had put it all together himself. He didn’t win, but as he walked past through the crowd I congratulated him on the effort he’d put in. By his own admission, the ribbon on his hat was the only thing he’d made, and by “made” he really meant he wrapped it around the hat. Do you ever get those moments where you immediately want someone out of your sight so you can try to forget about them? I instantly internally turned on the guy, feeling as if I’d wasted all of my cheering on a charlatan. Alas, you can’t take something like that back, so I once again congratulated him and wished him a good night. Secretly, I kinda hope he didn’t.
I walked on the subway this afternoon and heard a woman barking orders. “Someone stand up, give up your seat.” She shouted. A dude complied, and the woman pointed to an older woman and indicated for her to sit down. Again, “someone else, there are still more people who need seats.” A younger woman left her seat. It happened again, and again. She was marshalling people old and young alike, arranging them like Tetris blocks. It was intriguing to witness. I was travelling a single stop, so I was already standing by the door. It’s rare here in Toronto that people will a) take initiative, but b) care if someone asks them for a favour. The riders who were already sitting didn’t much seem to mind vacating their spots, though the standing folks in need felt almost sheepish about accepting the help. It was an unusual, but likely beneficial request.
A friend of mine last night said that one of her pals had asked if I was available/interested. It gave me pause as I considered. Did I want to be potentially set up by a friend? I’m often pretty picky, and feel kinda weird about friend based matchmaking. She continued “my friend is a guy.” Once again, I thought about it. I haven’t been on a date with a guy. I have no idea how dating other guys works. It’s something I’m definitely not closed off to, but I’m pretty clueless when it comes to knowing if I have a type, what calls to me in a male partner, etc. It’s rare that I feel sexual chemistry with dudes, but at the same time it could just be a matter of a lack of experience leading to an inability of understanding what I’m attracted to.
I get the feeling like my standards are inexplicably much higher for guys than gals. Like, past experiences have indicated that I’m more desirable to guys seeking guys than gals seeking guys. Maybe that has something to do with it, I feel like I have more cred with fellas. Does that actually translate into substantive social capital? I’ve got no fucking idea. It’s a whole new world. What kind of guys would I even want to date? I always thought it’d be neat to date a guy with similar tastes, so we could just hang out, play games, watch things and have sex. Lather, rinse, repeat. I get the sense that overall queerness is pretty rife in geeky circles. Maybe I just need to open my eyes and look around.
Even if my food coma is pushing them shut right now…