Thursday, July 9, 2009

Look at me now! Okay, now go back to your boyfriend.

The beauty of Facebook is that it makes being creepy socially acceptable. The "suggested friend" feature enhances that, because suddenly someone you completely forgot existed (for instance, someone I went to a theater program with x years ago, or Jew camp, or something) - pops up, and suddenly I click friend and all of a sudden I can see how much weight they've gained/lost, all the colors they've dyed their hair, and if they like electroindiepopscenester music or actually are scene and don't list anything except random quotes that only true intellects, unlike me, could recognize.

So, what happens when you find your old crush? The one who is bisexual/homosexual/pansexual/never returned your interest and you thought it was because you need a nose job, but it was really because he's just not into...women? I have found a remarkable number of former crushes on Facebook, many of whom I've discovered to be in relationships with men. This shouldn't have come as a surprise to me, as I have:

1) made out with homosexuals
2) been pursued by homosexuals
3) fallen in "like" (albeit intensely) with homosexuals
4) had ill fated moderate crushes on homosexuals
5) attracted homosexuals
6) etc.

Persisting crushes I insisted were heterosexual, regardless of their skintight whiskered jeans and spiked hair and desire to grind on other men at any given opportunity. "Don't give into stereotypes!" I would tell my friends. "[Insert name here] is definitely straight!....He's just metrosexual. Or bisexual!"

But, to quote a quote I've heard before, "bisexuality is just a pit stop on the way to gay."

In fact, my only lasting romantic/flirtatious/stimulating encounter was with a guy who's brother was gay. So I was close.

This is trite, and I'm sure it's been done before, and I could go on and on about my rendevous in plural with men who like other men and the unfortunate ways I've discovered this. But when you see 'in a relationship with (insert a dude's name here)' how do you respond? Part of me wants to pray that someone opens up my recent pictures and see how I look way cuter five years later with bangs, especially with two drinks - one in each hand - yes, because I'm that girl (although I think I just couldn't decide if I wanted cabernet in a red plastic cup, or some odd concoction of peach schnapps 99 apples, vodka and Crystal light in a erd plastic cup). But he likes dudes. He's doing a dude.

Which is cool by me, I'm accepting, hell, I'm in theater, but I wanted a fabulous "look at me now!" moment!

But, who knows, he could totally appreciate how I look, just not desire it. But maybe he has no desire to even look at my page, he just accepted my friend request out of facebook courtesy. He may still remember the time I tried to persuade him into "rehearsing a comedic stage kiss in a passionate way so we'd feel really comfortable with each other on stage."

I was fifteen then.

Til next time,
small fry/THAT girl...

Gym (Too) Shorts

I haven't posted in awhile, I know, but that doesn't mean I'm free from painful life experiences that are actually hilarious. I was off doing some volunteer work (teaching theater to kids, nope, not saving the planet or building houses in Nicaragua), so it's kind of consumed my time. Any remaining time has been spent with people who I like or at the gym. I work out a lot. But you don't care about that, and I know that, so have no fear - I just need to let you all know about some people at the gym who make me uncomfortable.

Or maybe, I make them uncomfortable. (Probably.)

I joined a new gym, a cheap gym, that I'll call Unfit Universe (maybe you can figure it out), because I can't afford NYSC anymore and this just makes more sense as my apartment I'm moving into this fall at school is right near one of these little chainlet gyms. I call it Unfit Universe because this gym was not designed for fitness fanatics like myself, but people who want to "try working out" and know nothing about fitness equipment. Now, I'm all for people "trying working out" but if you'r einterrupting my circuit training because you're doing sit ups while on the leg press, you don't belong in a gym. You belong either a) on the mat section for sit ups or b) far from a gym. I wanted to tell him that the machine wasnt' for sit ups, but he was bigger than me, and maybe he didn't speak English. He looked ethnic. But who am I to judge. Plenty of people who look like they speak English don't, and plenty of ethnic people speak English.

There was a woman who was, I swear, checking me out, too. It made me uncomfortable. I was doing pilates moves, like the 100. I don't think I'm radiantly hot, nor have I ever had a penchant for attracting lesbians, but I have to say I have just mustered enough confidence recently to sport a little tank top and short shorts to the gym. So I engaged in a staring contest with her. It was then that I realized that you could totally see up my shorts.

I mean, who knows, maybe she didn't see up my shorts. Maybe she just enjoys staring. I definitely stare at people and make up lives that they live. (For example - man with enormous moustache moderately resembling a Pedo-Stache on the elliptical at low intensity and high speed - has overweight wife and two kids in middle school; eats pork and beans for dinner. Went to SUNY Oswego. Majored in math. Now works as a line cook for a major chain restaurant with fried chicken atop of every 'healthy' salad.)

I hope he didn't see up my shorts. But if he did, he probably was too busy dreaming about his impending pork and beans dinner. Some people just always have food on the brain.

Til next time,
small fry/THAT girl...