NBK in Alberta: The Brownie Batter Thickens
LunarCircus is back—and he's got updates! —Sparkitors
Holy Mother of Brownies, Sparklers. You’re not going to believe this.
I say... So much has happened over these past few weeks that there’s enough material to fill a whole season of 90210. I don’t watch the show, but I hear it’s really dramatic.
First, the questions!
Rubinne said: You should go shopping to alleviate you Scruff-related sufferings.
:D I DID JUST THAT! LIKE, OH MY GAWD. I BOUGHT THIS PAIR OF JEANS THAT’S LIKE, SOOOOO HAWT. IT’S SLIM FIT, AND DARK WASH, AND JUST A TEENSY BIT SHINY! HOLY MOLEY IS IT EVER SMEXY! THIS IS IT RIGHT HERE! Erm... yeah. I went shopping. It was good times.
Has_no_life asked: Do gay guys deal with rejection the same way that girls do, i.e. with inordinate amounts of ice cream?
I suspect it depends on the guy. For myself, yes, my methods of dealing are largely the same. On days when I’m particularly woebegone and my unicorn named LaserBeams is nowhere in sight (he has a knack for unlocking the stable door), I take to my living room couch with a barrel of ice cream and watch reruns of The Golden Girls. Betty White makes my life. Also, let’s see if you can guess what my favourite kind of ice cream is. I’ll give you a hint. It starts with a B and ends in ROWNIES.
coolings asked: There are no hot guys in my area but I’m starting university in the fall. Have any advice for a young grasshopper?
Piece of advice #1: Be sure to practice your mantis kick every day. Wax on, wax off, grasshopper. Piece of advice #2: The great thing about university is that you get to start fresh. It might seem daunting at first, with you not knowing anyone and with no one knowing you, but there’s a lot more anonymity, which means you get to be yourself. Oddly, this doesn’t make it harder to meet people. Universities tend be pretty open-minded places, and most have some kind of gay rights/gay fellowship group on campus. Getting involved is a great way to put yourself out there. You’ll be meeting people in no time :) Piece of advice #3: Don’t eat yellow snow.
And finally, a huge thank you to everyone for your supportive comments last week! You’re all sweethearts. (Even you manklers. But, like, manly sweethearts.)
Now for PART TWO of my coming-out story:
High school was a hard time for me (as it is for most people). I went from being the nerdy-nerdstein that everyone asked for help with homework to someone who was still intelligent but... to a lesser degree :/ I went through a bout of depression, my grades were suffering, my best friend had just written me off, my parents had separated, and I was only just coming to grips with my sexuality. Add in all the usual expectations and pressures of high school and you’ve got a genuine poo storm.
But I had made one decision at least: I wanted to be a writer. This was as much a surprise to me as it was to everyone else. Most of my life I’d wanted to an astronomer, or a doctor, or something science-y, but writing had become a passion of mine and I’d made up my mind. So with all these stressors in my life, I decided it would be a good idea to drop Calc and grade 12 Physics. It wasn’t as though I was going to need them. By the end of grade 11, I already had enough credits to graduate. And I could use the spares as study time. Sounds like a good idea, yeah?
My mother disagreed. See, my mom and I have this thing where we don’t communicate face-to-face. It just gets too awkward and neither of us can articulate ourselves, so she wrote me a letter. An email, to be exact. Basically it said that I was ruining my life and that I might need those courses down the road and that I was being enabled so she was kicking me out. So I responded with an email explaining my situation. I listed off these various stressors in my life (including the fact that I’m gay) and how dropping the two courses—which I didn’t need—would make things just a little more bearable.
This seemed to do the trick. She didn’t say much about my homosexuality but she didn’t kick me out. Yay!
So that’s how my mom found out. My dad’s another story. One day, soon after, my dad came up to me and said, “we need to go for a drive.” :O We got in his vehicle, drove to Tim Horton’s, parked in the parking lot, and sat in silence. Eventually, he broke it: “So your mother says you have something to tell me.”
“What’s that?” I asked.
“Something you told her in an email.”
“That I’m gay?”
WWWWTTTTTFFFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUDGEBROWNIES?!?!?!???!!!!!!!!???!?!?!!!! Ok. Sparklers, I take a lot of issues with this situation. They are:
1) What business does my mom have telling my dad something that I’m not ready for him to know? Erg.
2) What right does my dad have to corner me into admitting my sexuality? Like it’s some kind of dirty habit... Double Erg.
3) He then proceeded to ask what are possibly the two most ignorant questions one can ask: “How do you know?” and “Are you sure?” I wonder if he wanted a graphic description D:
Now don’t get me wrong. As silly as these questions sound, if they’re coming from a father who is simply uninformed about homosexuality, it’s not fair for me to judge. They are fair questions, in a way. But coupled with the fact that my mother had shared this information against my will and that my father did pretty much the most overly-dramatic thing imaginable (i.e. taking me for a drive to talk about my "problems"), it was enough to make me pretty angry. I felt like I was being attacked. This was not his intention, but it felt like it at the time.
We didn’t talk for a few days. He didn’t understand why I was so angry and I didn’t know either, at the time. Eventually things mellowed out and we started talking again, but never about my sexuality. This is the way things are now, with both my mom and dad. They know, I know they know, but it’s never talked about. Someday I’ll have to tell them I plan on dating but I’m hoping to have a boyfriend before that day comes. It’d be nice to have someone to help me along, y’know?
As it is today, all of my immediate family knows that I’m gay, as do all of my friends and any new acquaintances I make. I dread telling my grandmother, though :P
Now for the goods on Scruff!
I decided I wouldn’t contact Scruff again until he contacted me first. I was new to this whole dating thing (that run-in with my ex didn’t really count) and I didn’t want to seem desperate, even if I sort of felt it. So I waited a few days and (hurray!) he facebooked me back! Here’s where it gets interesting. Scruff’s response followed our normal pattern for replies, with paragraph-by-paragraph responses—but when it came to the part about our plans for Monday... there was nothing.
He didn’t even acknowledge that we’d made plans! Sparklers, I’m so confused!! :( There’s no way he could have responded without having read about our plans. He would have to have read about our plans in order to skip over them!
I have to be vague about this part, to protect the innocent, but basically, through various texting conversations with Humphrey, Scruff (once he finally got my number), and various other people, I was able to put some of the pieces together. Suffice it to say, there was much clandestine canoodling on the part of those involved in this mess. And what’s more, it made me feel like a fool. ANTI-MATTER BROWNIES, I SAY!
But when Scruff did finally reach me, it was with sincere apology. I still don’t know how he could have missed the plans we made, but he explained that he has a terrible memory and simply forgot. He had spent that Monday evening comforting Humphrey, who had just broken up with his long-time boyfriend, and had he remembered our plans, he would have been at my house in an instant. What’s more, things were further complicated when Scruff explained to me that he hadn’t meant for Monday to be a date at all. Yes, he found me interesting. Yes, he found me attractive. But he wasn’t interested in a relationship because... THE PLOT THICKENS... he was still getting over his EX.
I don’t know how long they were together, but I know it was serious. It’s been over a year since they’ve broken up but they’re still not over each other.
But we made new plans. It was a Sunday night. Scruff took me out for ice cream (not brownie ice cream, but I can deal), and then we drove around for hours in the dark and talked. It was so much fun, and being with him is so easy :) We talked about everything, from books to movies to religion. I enjoy his company and I think he genuinely enjoys mine. I should be very clear, though, Sparklers: however much it looks like one— however much it felt like one—this was not a date. Scruff and I are just friends... ...but that doesn’t mean I don’t get my first kiss :P P.S. I had to cut down the Scruff portion of this post to fit in the rest of my coming-out story, but now that that’s done with, expect a nice, long Scruffathon next week!!!
What do you think of Scruff's behavior?
Related post: NBK in Alberta: THE DATE