Whoa, T3h Emo
Tuesday, 7 February 2006 01:26![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
melayneseahawkThis entry started out as typical bitching about school work, ranting and raving about rehearsals, and catty comments about my snoring roommate, but I made the mistake of picking up the article about the lesbian Yalies that Steven sent to me a few days ago, so now I'm all introspective about sexuality and being 'out'.
I think the 'Homosexual Agenda' Poster on the door (spend time with family, get equal rights, and buy milk, respectively) is the only thing convincing the floor that I'm not just another straight chick. Spending time with Steve behind closed doors doesn't help, but the whole situation makes my skin itch on the inside. It's incredibly difficult to get involved with anyone when ass-deep in rehearsals, since there's no free time, and it's even harder when you don't know whether the person you're flirting with is even attracted to your sex, much less you personally. I don't get to go to either Woman 2 Woman or BAM anymore, since they're smack-dab in the middle of rehearsals, so I don't have a place where I know the women aren't straight anymore. And I'm new enough at this that I don't feel comfortable stepping out on a limb and flirting.
I hang out with three people these days:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
sommayyouall, Steve, and Evan. I'm not meeting anyone new, really, and the few people I meet through classes I generally don't want to hang out with outside of class. I spend most of my time talking to IBers online, especially kashmir_ki_kali, rather than real people. I don't have a group of people like the Lunch Group, and I certainly don't have any non-straight friends around here. One might point out that it's only the beginning of my second collegiate semester, but during the equivalent period in high school, kashmir_ki_kali and I were already inseparable, and I'd already started eating with the four or five people who became the foundation of the Lunch Group. I'm very much alone here, adrift in a sea of something that I'm too tired to accurately explain.
I think the worst part of all of this is that even when I do have free time, I have nothing to do. I have no interest in touring frat row with the...ladies...on my floor, even if they hadn't given up on inviting me along. In a perfect world, I'd go clubbing Saturday nights, but I have no one to go with, and even if I went to Ladies' Night at Apex, there's no way in hell I'd go alone. So, I spend Saturday and Sunday nights in front of the monitor, playing sheshbesh against someone in Finland and feeling sorry for myself. In a big way, that's why I'm even considering that MTV thing; if I had a camera crew following me around, I could go clubbing. Pathetic, non? Oui, je sais.
Wow, this wasn't supposed to be quite this emo a post, but that's certainly how it came out. I'm going to get back to analysing Oedipus Rex now.
Comments will be turned off for this, because I don't want any more of a pity party than I've already created for myself, but you can IM me if you have something constructive to say.
But now, for something completely different, the Crucible Rehearsal Blog, kept by our fantastic director, Jerry Whiddon. A scary concept, I must tell you, but it should be amusing.
I think the 'Homosexual Agenda' Poster on the door (spend time with family, get equal rights, and buy milk, respectively) is the only thing convincing the floor that I'm not just another straight chick. Spending time with Steve behind closed doors doesn't help, but the whole situation makes my skin itch on the inside. It's incredibly difficult to get involved with anyone when ass-deep in rehearsals, since there's no free time, and it's even harder when you don't know whether the person you're flirting with is even attracted to your sex, much less you personally. I don't get to go to either Woman 2 Woman or BAM anymore, since they're smack-dab in the middle of rehearsals, so I don't have a place where I know the women aren't straight anymore. And I'm new enough at this that I don't feel comfortable stepping out on a limb and flirting.
I hang out with three people these days:
sommayyouall, Steve, and Evan. I'm not meeting anyone new, really, and the few people I meet through classes I generally don't want to hang out with outside of class. I spend most of my time talking to IBers online, especially kashmir_ki_kali, rather than real people. I don't have a group of people like the Lunch Group, and I certainly don't have any non-straight friends around here. One might point out that it's only the beginning of my second collegiate semester, but during the equivalent period in high school, kashmir_ki_kali and I were already inseparable, and I'd already started eating with the four or five people who became the foundation of the Lunch Group. I'm very much alone here, adrift in a sea of something that I'm too tired to accurately explain.I think the worst part of all of this is that even when I do have free time, I have nothing to do. I have no interest in touring frat row with the...ladies...on my floor, even if they hadn't given up on inviting me along. In a perfect world, I'd go clubbing Saturday nights, but I have no one to go with, and even if I went to Ladies' Night at Apex, there's no way in hell I'd go alone. So, I spend Saturday and Sunday nights in front of the monitor, playing sheshbesh against someone in Finland and feeling sorry for myself. In a big way, that's why I'm even considering that MTV thing; if I had a camera crew following me around, I could go clubbing. Pathetic, non? Oui, je sais.
Wow, this wasn't supposed to be quite this emo a post, but that's certainly how it came out. I'm going to get back to analysing Oedipus Rex now.
Comments will be turned off for this, because I don't want any more of a pity party than I've already created for myself, but you can IM me if you have something constructive to say.
But now, for something completely different, the Crucible Rehearsal Blog, kept by our fantastic director, Jerry Whiddon. A scary concept, I must tell you, but it should be amusing.
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