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11:42 a.m. - April 18, 2004
Didn't go to church; instead thought about talking too much
I had a good time last night with Internet Jon. We had dinner and then drove to the beach at Santa Cruz for a bonfire, and the conversation was good. I was nervous though, and rattled on. This is a somewhat new development for me, a difference I've noted between how I interact with men versus women. It's that lack of assuredness of knowing just what to do, a solid nonchalance. Maybe nonchalance isn't what I'm striving towards; it's not worrying when someone says gay too loud, or wondering if people think we're two guys together in the restaurant. No, that's not it; what I want is to feel confident enough that what I have to offer is in equal measure to what I expect from someone else. I don't want to be the unattractive one hoping to make a good enough impression that the ugliness is overlooked or minimized at best. I don't want to think I have nothing to offer, but that's what courses through my mind when I'm in a situation like this. All situations, now that I think about it.

But last night was good; Internet Jon racked up the interest points left and right. He's 6'4 and you know my thing for tall guys; he hadn't shaved and there was just enough stubble there to make my mouth water. He laughs a lot and tells good stories, and likes the sound of the ocean at night better than during the day. All good things.

But.

He's allergic to dogs and cats so to compensate, he has a hamster. A hamster? One hamster story is enough for me, thanks. I kept wanting to laugh a bit, visualizing this tall half-Italian, half-French guy with curly hair playing with a hamster the size of his finger, but found his earnestness cute. He plays video games (I made the connection too late; he designs games for a big company here in Silicon Valley). He enoys the (gay) clubs and bars, loves to dance with a guy. These are not bad things, simply different. I think.

A panic moment: We are in the restaurant when a friend of his stopped by the table and he introduced us, added I was theJason he's interested in; she said we make a cute couple and after a minute or two went away. I was bothered, thought why not simply tattoo a pink triangle on my forehead. I suppose I'll get used to it, yeah?

You know what hurts, that is just me and nothing else? I can't get past equating (my) being gay with feminization (which itself reveals a certain gender paradigm I would not think I was partial to). While we were at the beach I got cold and he noticed, offered me his jacket. What the fuck? I was insulted but it hurt because I'd always offer mine to a woman, especially Dana because she was so petite and easily became cold. Later having strawberries I declined when he offered another, and he said A good bottom always takes what he's given and I knew he was kidding but we have never talked about tops or bottoms about anything, so why did he assume or know that's me? Is it obvious, am I some flaming queer and don't realize it?

I would see him again. He thinks I'm cute so that's a good sign, eh? At root though, I feel like a girl and I don't like that.

 

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