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... in which there shall be no sexual innuendo. :(
I am weak. Clearly, there is no other explanation for it. Not weak of body, mind; weak of will. All I have to do is click a mouse button three times on the same facebook page and all will be over. Problem is that the buttons are "Add as Friend" buttons. That the friends-to-be are relatives. That they hail from the maternal bloodline. And that I've heard some of them discussing, with poison on their tongues, the vileness of faggots.
I am weak. I have already decided not to hide it once they're added, but... it's the adding that I'm having trouble with, so that minor bravery is somewhat pointless at the moment. So, clearly, there is no other explanation for it.
On the semi-plus side, though, my aunt told me last night about a friend who has a friend who has a brother. He's 21, an ambo, and hasn't had a "friend" before. Only thing is that I'm, you know, shit scared about meeting people and having to actually talk. I thought I was over that... seems not. Especially my fear of phones - I never know what to say, which is why I never randomly call people just to chat. If I want to just chat, I'll type it. There's just this sense of obligation that surrounds phone-based conversations. And that sense of obligation is spreading to the potential ambo - because my aunt has gone and made this connection on my behalf, I feel like I have to at least talk to him out of obligation to her, which means I could feel obligated to do anything else (up to and including a date - no obligation sex! that's just wrong). And that's sort of how the whole Jason thing ended up not quite ending, strictly speaking; obligation to Joe. Which, yes, is fucked up, but there you go.
On the plusser side, Kelly has a friend of a friend she wants to introduce me to who is in a similar situation to the ambo - a 22 year old electrician (or other tradey type, which equals looks and money according to Kelly, which are bonuses not requirements) from Wollongong who isn't quite out of the closet yet, even to himself she thinks. I think she said his name was Matt (there are far too many Matts, but I do like the name, and being a David I don't think I can really talk about over-used names). Kelly wants to have something at her place to celebrate the end of renovations/uni/which ever it is at the time, to which we'd both be invited amongst other people. I do already feel a little intimidated by the looks and money he supposedly sports but that's another matter, and the fact that he's not actually identifying is not a good sign, but this plan seems like far more laid-back with far less obligation than "I'll get you his number and you can have a chat" which freaks the fuck out of me and feels like an arranged date; blind, at the moment, I might add. I mean, come on, I may once again be terrified by phones, but that doesn't mean I don't have a little pride, a little dignity to maintain.
I am weak. Clearly, there is no other explanation for it. Not weak of body, mind; weak of will. All I have to do is click a mouse button three times on the same facebook page and all will be over. Problem is that the buttons are "Add as Friend" buttons. That the friends-to-be are relatives. That they hail from the maternal bloodline. And that I've heard some of them discussing, with poison on their tongues, the vileness of faggots.
I am weak. I have already decided not to hide it once they're added, but... it's the adding that I'm having trouble with, so that minor bravery is somewhat pointless at the moment. So, clearly, there is no other explanation for it.
On the semi-plus side, though, my aunt told me last night about a friend who has a friend who has a brother. He's 21, an ambo, and hasn't had a "friend" before. Only thing is that I'm, you know, shit scared about meeting people and having to actually talk. I thought I was over that... seems not. Especially my fear of phones - I never know what to say, which is why I never randomly call people just to chat. If I want to just chat, I'll type it. There's just this sense of obligation that surrounds phone-based conversations. And that sense of obligation is spreading to the potential ambo - because my aunt has gone and made this connection on my behalf, I feel like I have to at least talk to him out of obligation to her, which means I could feel obligated to do anything else (up to and including a date - no obligation sex! that's just wrong). And that's sort of how the whole Jason thing ended up not quite ending, strictly speaking; obligation to Joe. Which, yes, is fucked up, but there you go.
On the plusser side, Kelly has a friend of a friend she wants to introduce me to who is in a similar situation to the ambo - a 22 year old electrician (or other tradey type, which equals looks and money according to Kelly, which are bonuses not requirements) from Wollongong who isn't quite out of the closet yet, even to himself she thinks. I think she said his name was Matt (there are far too many Matts, but I do like the name, and being a David I don't think I can really talk about over-used names). Kelly wants to have something at her place to celebrate the end of renovations/uni/which ever it is at the time, to which we'd both be invited amongst other people. I do already feel a little intimidated by the looks and money he supposedly sports but that's another matter, and the fact that he's not actually identifying is not a good sign, but this plan seems like far more laid-back with far less obligation than "I'll get you his number and you can have a chat" which freaks the fuck out of me and feels like an arranged date; blind, at the moment, I might add. I mean, come on, I may once again be terrified by phones, but that doesn't mean I don't have a little pride, a little dignity to maintain.
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in no particular order
I just didn't want to be all aggro- at you, given how people have been regarding my personality lately.
Oh, sorry, I misread. But, still. Poison was involved. Although, honestly, how could anyone meet you and NOT think you were one of those damn queers? I mean, really. :D
If the guys is actually "a kitten-smuggler for Peruvian bandits" that would be pretty cool.
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Re: in no particular order
I wouldn't have taken it as aggro at me, more at the people I unfortunately share blood with.
Heh, it's cool. I actually wondered if it would be read that way when I wrote it, but couldn't be stuffed changing it. I guess it isn't paranoia if they really are out to get you, after all :P
Re my clear queerdom: given that it's been picked up over the long, long tubes of the interweb, I guess there is actually some validity to that question. But I am naturally toned-down (read: supressed) around most family.
I think I would squee if he were - he'd be the cutest little hardcore bad boy ever! I mean... ahem, totally manly. He'd have some pretty nasty scars, too, so we could totally compare!!... um... you know what I mean.
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"[I]t isn't paranoia if they really are out to get you". Nope.
Ah, okay. 'Cause around us guys it's pretty obvious.
...I don't think I want to know what you mean. :P
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Dude, I meant the scars! My hip, elbow and shoulder scars! And his kitty claw scars! Did you not get the "in which there will be no sexual innuendo" subheading? :P
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Oh, right. Of course.
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