The Jenga Problem in The Stuff That's Not Interesting But Is The Most Interesting Stuff I'll Write

I have just under three weeks before yet another radical life change. So basically, this could be an entry from almost any other moment in my life. I think I have more “I’m moving and this will change my life” entries than “I love him” or “I’m excited about this new job” entries. The only thing I’ve ever done with some consistency is move and start over.

But this really is a big deal. Like the rest of them. I will have graduated and be moving into yet another phase of my life. That phase is something that is unknown and unplanned by myself. I suppose “unplanned” is a little too “deus ex machina” but I kind of got into this college thing not really knowing what to expect, and I’m leaving it feeling even more unprepared for the world than I went in. If anything, I think I’ve overeducated myself out of useful employment.

That’s one of the reasons I’m going to be an au pair. The family is based in California so it’s not REALLY an au pair situation, but I have to speak French so it’s basically the same thing. It’ll give me a roof over my head and some down time to figure out exactly what my next move is… and I have a vague idea what that will be, but I’m not exactly sure WHERE out of the country I am going to go.

Yes, I plan to get the hell out of America for a while. Well, maybe not all of America, maybe just the US. Maybe I’ll visit South America (although I’m not really tropical-friendly so that might not work out), I just know that I’ve been buried for too long in this place. I haven’t traveled since I went to Paris and that was three years ago. Before that, I hadn’t been anywhere since 2010 when I spent Christmas and NYE in New Orleans. Now that the world has been opened up to me, I have to figure out where I want to go.

So many people are trying to give me career advice. In fact, one of my professors asked us to give a speech on what our career goals are. My speech called career goals reductive, and that I thought it was rude to try to and capture all of one’s potential into a fortune-telling question that really brings little bearing onto one’s life. Then I finished by saying that my career goal was to propel society past the point where it is deemed necessary to constantly drill young people about their career goals. My professor was not pleased. He can suck my dick.

Speaking of dick-sucking, I haven’t had it or done it in a while. But the time period has finally passed. I never really explained this because I felt that it was nobody’s business, but I haven’t had any kind of sexual contact since last I had with James before he died in October. The reason being for that was that rumors were floating around that he was HIV-positive. Now, regardless of whether or not he was or wasn’t (for some reason, I wrote that last bit in the present-tense, this death stuff is hard), I thought it was only a matter of precaution that I not engage in any activities since it’s possible that I might be positive as well.

If I am, I am. If I’m not, I’m not. I’m not going to wonder one way or another or bring myself to a fevered pitch of panic. But enough time has passed, it’s time to get tested and know for sure. KNOW YOUR STATUS even if it means waiting and passing on opportunities.

Which, amazingly enough, there seem to be interested parties. I’ve gotten myself into some serious romantic entanglements, the kind of which have not been seen by myself in many years. The new coordinator of the LGBT Center on campus and I have been fairly flirty. It’s relaxed. It’s comforting. He’s my age. Little. There’s just one thing that bothers me, and it’s a little thing, but I was quite taken aback that I’m so fixated on it. He’s got really strange hands. Well, not hands. He’s got tiny hands. But his fingers are REALLY oddly shaped. They’re somewhat squarish. Okay, I’m just going to say it. It’s like he has half-sized Jenga pieces for fingers.

I finally saw his fingernails yesterday when we were visiting UC Riverside. They’re long and flat (they have no curve) and are about 3/4” across. But length-wise, they are probably only about 3-4 mm long.... that’s right MILLIMETERS. His fingernails are just a little bit thicker than pencil lead. It’s really disconcerting especially because I love talking to him, he calms me down… even after I swear that I’m not going to spend any more time with him because it’s technically an ethical violation because he’s faculty and I’m a student (for now)… but just one glance to his fingers and I’m totally distracted. Sitting there, nodding while he’s talking and fixating on his weird-ass fingers.

I had been trying for weeks to see his fingernails but only yesterday when we were close together huddled in the library (don’t ask) did I finally see them… and now I can’t unsee them. I’m horrified.

What the fuck is wrong with me? Why am I obsessing over this? And it gets really weird, too. I had a nightmare that we were going to have sex finally (I know what you’re thinking, this doesn’t sound like a nightmare) and when he wrapped his hands around my dick, I started screaming for whatever reason. Those weird little baby food-version sausage fingers around my dick was just NOT a turn on at all!

I know what you’re thinking, you still need more time away to fix those mental problems you were talking about. No child, this is me fixed and fine.

Maybe I’m must trying to find a way to reject him since I’m leaving in just a few weeks anyway and I know that I’ll just get my heart broken if I let the flirting and the butterflies go any further.

Yes, butterflies.

I’d like to believe I’m that smart, but something tells me I’m just fucking weird.

Last updated March 02, 2015