8:32 p.m. - December 04, 2003
It's not you, he says, it's me
Ryan II calls me up; he is crying and few other things send me into defenses-up mode as quickly. He failed a final exam and in his program that means he cannot take further coursework until he passes the course; the next slot for this class is next year. So he's out of school.
Numerous thoughts: You make it this far and then flunk a test? You're brilliant; smart people do not fail.
He asks if I'm still interested in him. Keep in mind he began the conversation mid-sniffle with plenty of salt action.
I say yeah, of course. I think that was a lie. I feel rather shallow right about now.
I don't look for hard bodies, cars, tans, dance moves, sex moves, fashion, muscles, dick size (or boob size for that matter, though I do like b-cups - just enough to hold, just enough to jiggle), or anything like that. I look for people who make me laugh, are kind and outward thinking (no self-centered universes here), intelligent, readers, into politics, travel, debates and discussions on every topic imaginable, people who take stands left or right and articulate them well, ambitious, motivated fellows. Isn't failing a class a sign of sloth and laziness, an inability to apply oneself when the stakes are high? My initial reaction is to be thoroughly disillusioned and dis-attracted, and I'm not surprised. A turn off, that's how I feel. I think it's unfair; is he any less intelligent ex post facto?
I think I look for any excuse.
