Post for 25 May 2008

I finally went clubbing on Thursday in San Francisco. It was at this place called Popscene in SoMA (South of Market Area, for those of you not in the know) and it was… amazing. It’s an indie club and they hosted Foals and Maps & Atlases. I went alone. Not that that was a problem. Apparently I looked hot that night (usually not this conceited, but seriously. Keep reading) because, like, nearly every gay kid there (there was actually a significant amount there, surprisingly) was trying to dance up on me. Now, I’ve never been to a club before (indie or otherwise) and I don’t know if this is how people just act, or, if I was just really hot that night… I’m hoping it’s the latter. Anyway, I had a good time that night. I stayed with my english teacher (no, there was no sex. He’s not all that hot. He’s just super nice and hilarious) and we were drinking and making each other laugh. I skipped class on Friday because of a rather inconvenient hangover from partying and I wasn’t going to make the (now) 45 minute ride back home from San Francisco just to make two classes. I got back to school around 4 o’clock-ish. My roommates thought that I got killed (I think they were joking. Then again, they are pretty stupid).
Again, I’m thinking about telling my parents that I’m gay. I say it now, but I can almost guarantee you that I am not going to be brave enough to do it. My friend just recently came out to all of us and his family. Apparently his family had a hard time. That’s what I’m afraid of. I mean, I know that I have been building up my network in case my parents do, but… you know? I can’t explain it.
3 more weeks!!

 

Post for 16 May 2008

Okay, I need to post this:
As if vag wasn’t scary enough, they had to add teeth to the mix! that’s just wrong. Can you imagine? “Oh, baby” *Penetration* *Pain* *Death* … ouch, no fun. I was telling my best friend about that (I was mostly joking with him about his and his girlfriend’s “waiting” policy) and he was, like, “Fuck that shit! I’m celibate from now on. No wonder you’re gay! Shit, I’m having second thoughts now.” Hah, there is a reason he’s my best friend. From there, we discussed the likelihood that I will ever have a one-nighter with Anderson Cooper (we agreed that if I can get him alone, it’s practically guaranteed).
I met this guy a little while ago and we went on a date in Berkeley. Now I get to the awkward part of my story. While we were on our date he would not shut up about any of his exes. I heard about how one thing or another that I did reminded me of one of his exes. This led me to believe one of two things: 1. He’s not over his exes and I’m just there to look pretty while he reminisces or, 2. He’s hinting (on the first date!) that he expects us to become a couple. I don’t care to be ignored while the guy remembers boy friend’s past [passed ... whatever] and I DEFINITELY don’t intend to be in a relationship. So, since then, he has texted me quite a bit and I have been giving back the shortest, most curt, slightly cold responses that I can give without seeming mean. I’m trying to figure out which is least cruel but most effective in getting the guy to back off: keep giving the short, curt, slightly cold responses that I have been giving, completely ignore him, or tell him to his face that I am not interested in him. Each of them has their own advantage. If I give the short, curt, slightly cold response it means that I am not being cruel but it could be mistaken for leading the guy on if he doesn’t get the hint. Completely ignoring him is the most effective way of getting him to back off and the most cruel. Telling him to his face is just as effective as ignoring him but infinitely more awkward and could leave some bad blood (not that ignoring him would be a clean break, but whatevs). MORAL DECISIONS!!!
I was out with friends last night and after partaking in things that are probably illegal we went to IHOP and ate soooo much. It was so much fun, though! It was me, Z, D, K, and S and we were talking to our waitress who could only laugh at us and she gave us free pancakes for making her laugh so much. I LOVE IHOP.
I think I need a sugar daddy. Seriously, I need the sex and the money and older guys can be HOT. Think (of course) Anderson Cooper, Dennis Quaid
Now that I am totally turned on, it’s time for bed.
Adieu, Adieu, parting is such sweet sorrow.

 

Post for 25 April 2008

Is it bad that I didn’t know that this week was Greek Week for school? I’m either really unobservant or the greek life at this school does a really poor job of advertising. I mean, it’s not really as if I’m missing anything. I’m not coming back to this school next year and I can’t even drool over hot, frat-ass because the frat-ass at this campus is inherently ass ugly. Ah well. No drunken gay orgies here.

I was talking to one of my friends today. We ate lunch and a discussion on sexuality and what sexually insulting terms really mean. This is what we came up with:

Slut – Slutty is an attitude, not an action. The action of sleeping with many people can be called “Sexually liberated.” The attitude of slutty is a person who likes to be thought of sexually easy. One can be a virgin and still be labeled a slut.

Whore – Slightly ambiguous because of the fact that the word has only recently become part of the teen vernacular past the denotation. My friend and I decided that it can be an ironic term of endearment when used amongst friends (or, in odd cases, family). Beyond those points, it shouldn’t be used except when referring to someone who slept with one’s boyfriend (or girlfriend for the people who date women. No judgement here)

Mary Magdalene… the original bad-ass whore
Skank – Purely a term of endearment. There are people who would use it as an insult, but that’s simply an indication that they are vindictive, behind-the-times bitches.

Slutty-whore – the jury is still out on this one. Confusion exists because of the previous definitions.

wait, huh?
Yeah, I need to find better ways to spend my time.
Quote that will get me through this year: “With one snap of my fingers I can raise hemlines so high the world is your gynecologist!” – Patsy from “Absolutely Fabulous” I nearly shat myself after laughing for literally almost 15 minutes when I saw that episode. SWEETIE-DARLING

Patsy… amazing.

Au revoir, mes amis!

 

Post for 25 April 2008

Aww, my poor little brother. I was talking to him (well, we were really texting, but this is the 21st century so it counts as face to face) the other day and he was telling me about our parents since I’ve been gone. My parents have always had a controlling, type A, religious center-right attitude about life, and it used to be spread over the two of us. Since I’ve been gone, though, it has all been concentrated on my bro. Apparently my brother rented “Knocked Up” as the movie for Family Movie Night (which has been in place since my departure for school) and my parents trusted him enough to assume that he would naturally drift away from the Rated R films that he is allowed to rent from the local rental store. Needless to say my parents’ religious center-right values were offended and my little brother has been grounded for a week. During our “conversation” he reminded me that if I hadn’t left, we would have only faced a long and boring lecture on why that particular film wasn’t appropriate for Family Movie Night. I agree that if I had been there he wouldn’t have gotten in so much trouble as he did, but probably because if I had been there, Family Movie night wouldn’t have existed. He admits that the movie and challenging my parents was worth the punishment. Ah, if that’s not a typical American family, I don’t know what is.

I LOVE this movie. Who doesn’t love a pregnant Izzie?

He says his next choice for Family Movie Night is going to be “Juno” but I doubt Mom and Dad are going to let lighting strike twice (eww, was that a cliche?!?!)

I LOVE this movie, also.

I mentioned earlier that a few of my best friends and I (grammar.. I always forget that rule) are planning on a road trip up to the Bay Area for AIDS Walk San Francisco. I am uber excited!! I’m thinking that we can extend what should only be a six hour drive for about three days going up PCH and just do a straight shot back through the Central Valley (I think it [central valley] is even uglier than the lovely Suburban Hell from which I hail).

I’m sure we’ll pass this sign on the way to SF

I have to past a story for my fiction class tomorrow. I’m über (To me, the only cool thing about the German Language is the little dots above the “U”s and that “ß” thing) nervous about it. I really like the premise of it, it’s just that I have never been very good with dialogue so it sounds very contrived. I mean, it was contrived, the conversation that I am talking about is what makes the previous 4 pages worth reading, but it shouldn’t sound contrived, right? Also, posting on an online forum is not going to be easy for me. It’s not like blogging where it’s just typing into a box, I actually have to ATTACH a document and everything! Obviously technology is not my favorite thing in the world. Other than that, I am really loving the class. I don’t have any aspirations to be writer, this class is mostly to have a legitimate reason to waste my time writing instead of it just being a wasteful hobby, but it is fun.
Luke is now officially a poor person. Meh. Sucks because then I can’t buy things and I can’t go places and I can’t do anything. I swear, if I go to my 10 year reunion and I can’t say that I have more money than at least 80% of the people there, I’m going to cry. I WENT TO COLLEGE! Okay, journalism isn’t going to make me the next Steve Jobs, but can I be on a level of wealth equal to that or above Upper Middle Class? I refuse to see the white trash with a trust fund that was my hometown be more successful than me.

Yeah, good example of the type of people I went to school with… now imagine them with Coach purses and that IS the type of person I went to school with.

Luke misses swimming. Luke hates having to go back to his 10 year reunion and be looked down on by white trash who didn’t go to college.

Well, La-Dee-Da!

 

Post for 22 April 2008

     I continue to amaze myself. No, not in a good way this time, so don’t get your underwear in a bunch. Today my boss was gone and I was left to occupy myself for about 5 hours. In the space of five hours I somehow only accomplished one thing. One thing!!! How is that possible? I mean, it’s not as if I had a mountain of work to complete, but there were papers that needed to be written, things that needed to be posted online, people that needed to be interviewed, etc. I’m not pissed at myself, really. I’m just trying to figure out how I spent my time at work. I’m not sure if I’m accurate in saying this, but I’m pretty sure that I am the only person who could make nothing last five hours.

     Okay, so now that that’s out of the way, on to some good news, nay, great news! I went to the campus “convenience store” (I’m sorry, but a convenience store is supposed to be convenient. I swear, the people who run that place lie awake at night thinking of ways keep the place from being convenient. Closing at 5 p.m. is unacceptable!!) and there, in the refrigerated section, under the milk was a stick on SALAMI! And not the crappy Oscar-Meyer salami, but the real, dry, imported, Genoa goo salami! I can’t even describe how ridiculously happy seeing salami made me today. It actually borders on the embarrassing, but not quite
Genoa Salami!!!!

Now it’s story time. I’m going to tell you the fairy tale of “The Fucking Annoying Roommate”: Once upon a time, there was a boy named “Cristobal”. One day, “Cristobal” got his annoying ass pushed out the second floor window. To everyone it looked like an accident; the window was open, and “Cristobal” had a bad habit of leaning out the window as if people wanted to look at his fugly-ass face. Only The Roommate knew the truth: “Cristobal’s” annoying ass had been pushed out of the second floor window by none other than The Roommate himself.
“Muahahahah,” laughed the clever roommate, “Everyone thinks that ‘Cristobal’s’ annoying ass fell out of the window but they didn’t know my clever plan to finally get peace in this room. Not only did ‘Cristobal’ play his obnoxious ringtone at 6 a.m. when I didn’t have to be awake until 8 or 9, but he exercised in the middle of our tiny room when I was obviously trying to clean, with his annoying ass in the way as I tried to vacuum. And that’s not even all of it! He watched ‘Dancing With the Stars’ while I worked on articles for the newspaper and, for some reason, felt obligated to critique the ’stars’ as they danced across the stage trying to move themselves from C-List celebrity to B-List. None of this would have been nearly as annoying to me if “Cristobal’s” annoying ass wasn’t as vain as he was. Really, with a face like that, what was there to be vain about? His annoying ass spelled ‘plateau’ as ‘plato’ and spelled ‘accidentally’ as ‘aksidently.’ He thought he had the hottest body this side of Brad Pitt (circa Fight Club) despite the disgusting layer of thick black hair that covered his entire body,” said the clever roommate, “seriously, the first time I saw him in shorts, I thought he was wearing black socks.” The clever roommate was never caught for his act of brilliance and, in fact, all of other suitemates were glad not to have “Cristobal’s” annoying ass around anymore. And everyone lived happily ever after…” I can wish can’t I?

Tom Selleck.. yum. That much hair.. gag (and not the good-ish kind).

Omgah!! Speaking of the devil (sorry for the cliche), but here comes “Cristobal’s” annoying ass… and on comes “Dancing With the Stars”.. ugh! and they’re doing some sort of Hee-Haw hick music. Fuck me now (shit, even without lube, just get me out of here).
Yeah, today wasn’t as excessively exciting as “Cristobal” is excessively hairy.
… and I’m out. meh.

 

Post for 19 April 2008

     It seems that college is the place where I learn more than just sociology and math and such. It seems that I am learning lessons on keeping one-night stands exactly that: ONE NIGHT stands. This is the easiest and probably most logical rule that I have ever learned (but I can be forgiven since I have already confessed to having absolutely no common sense): Don’t give a one nighter your phone number!!!! Yes, it was originally given as a way to find each other easier, but it has now become a tool for the Too Clingy One-Night Stand to call and wake me up completely unexpectedly and ask how I’ve been. Holy shit! It’s not as if I can tell him to his face.. er over the phone, “Yeah, hey, Trick, lose my number. Have a nice day!” so I have to be nice to him and make it as awkward as possible for him by giving one word / sentence answers and / or long silences. That was a disaster. Ugh. Now I just have to remember to block his email. How do I block his calls? GAH!!!!!

     I know this sounds like typical idealistic youth writing, but I am seriously considering the Peace Corps after college. I do have an interest in human events and while I am not too crazy about living in conditions worse than these [ghetto dorms], I think I would take away a bit more than it takes from me. I’m not too sure about the pre-requisites. I should check. I wonder where I would want to go. I already speak Spanish so somewhere in South America would be cool. Argentina, “Don’t Cry For Me, Argentina”. hahah. Wow, that was the gayest I’ve been since… actually. No, never mind. Yesterday I was at the gym working out to the “Dreamgirls” soundtrack. Seriously. I was on a treadmill lip synching to Jennifer Hudson singing “And I’m Telling You I’m Not Going,” and I’m pretty sure the hot guy in front of me on a rowing machine was singing Britney. Wow, all we needed was a drag queen and I’m pretty sure we would have been in Castro.

And I Am Telling You I’m Not Going…

Don’t Cry For Me, Argentina

     Now that I am talking about important human issues, I should mention I’m thinking of coming back to NorCal during the summer for the San Francisco AIDS walk. I’m not sure yet. I know I want to, I’m just not sure about the logistics of organizing it with my parents and friends and everything. I’m not even sure my parents would even be too thrilled about me wanting to do it (anything that even smells of gay makes them uncomfortable). It would be fun. Bring a few of my friends with me and make a weekend of it. I do love San Francisco.

     HAPPY 4/20!! I don’t know how you plan on celebrating or mourning, but either way, YAY!

     Okay, I’m gone. Goodnight, Moon.

 

Post for 17 March 2008

Hey,

     So Luke has come to the conclusion that it would be absolutely impossible for him to enter some sort of emotional relationship. Period. I think I mentioned that guy that I met up with in San Francisco, right? Well, anyway, if I didn’t, I met up with a guy in San Francisco and we went out on a little date. Park, Japanese Tea Gardens, sex, dinner, and a movie. It was fun and Guy was nice and I was looking forward to meet him again. The day after the date he started to IM me and it was pretty weird because it almost sounded like he was trying to pick a fight, which is one of the things I don’t do (fights, I mean). So, after getting the strong vibes that he was mad, I asked what was wrong to which he replied, “I don’t think this is going to work out.” He went on about how he really liked me and that he didn’t “come to this conclusion lightly,” and how he hoped for the best for me. On IM I was a clear, well balanced, rational person; in life I was a bit emotionally distressed. The reason the… whatever-it-was wasn’t going to work out was because I had a healing cold sore on my upper lip and he didn’t want to chance getting one even while I didn’t have symptoms (he sounded a bit like one of those herpes commercials). I mean, I can’t get bitchy to him about it since I admit I didn’t really come out and tell him, “By the way, I was sick last week and I got cold sores from it.. just an FYI,” it just sucks. I didn’t quite believe him when he said he put a lot of thought into the decision, but I couldn’t do anything about it so I left it alone. So, my point is, if I get into an emotional funk for a few days after a non-emotional, one time date, imagine how I would get at the end of a relationship that I invested time and emotion in. I would probably be like Bridget Jones alone in my apartment listening to Eric Carmen sing “All By Myself”, eating a wedge of cheese with a bottle of wine. I guess I just wouldn’t be able to do that to myself.

     My douchy best friend isn’t coming to visit like he said he would! He’s going for summer school in D.C. and he’s leaving almost as soon as he gets out of school. I was looking forward to hanging out with him because we had so much fun the last time we hung out and I just wanted someone to bitch to about my fucking roommates. I do miss them [my friends] and this year has been really hard without them. A ton of stuff that I’ve had to work out on my own and other things that I wanted to laugh about. I know this sounds totally fucked up, but I consider them to be more of my family than what my actual biological family is.

     I’ve been bitching for a while now. I don’t like to do that too often, but it’s nice to do sometimes. It’s therapeutic. Today has been a lazy day. Seriously, I’ve been sitting here with a pint of Pistachio Haagen-Dazs (a-maz-ing) reading a blog called 2nd Person. It chronicles the life of a gay man living in Manhattan and he’s.. charming is the word I’d use. It’s written in the second person (you), hence the name “2nd Person”. The only thing that really bugs me about the blog is his tendency to fall back on stereotypes of gay men, besides that, I wish I were him. His man-candy, a man identified as Blond[e] Beard, sounds amazing, even if emotionally unavailable (which doesn’t sound like that much of a draw back but that’s probably because I’m usually the one who moves on).

     omgah!! I need to get laid. Badly. I think this whole week has just turned me into a sex fiend. It’s gotten to the point where I am actually turned on by men that I wouldn’t normally give a second glance. It doesn’t help that I am going to see Uber-Hot-Former-Philosophy-Professor today at a Philosophy Club meeting that I am going to be attending for work. Then there’s the short story reading in Berkeley next week where I’m sure to meet a hot, gay, artist type who wants to take me to his loft or studio apartment and make me his muse while he sits there and tells me over and over again that I am exactly what he has been looking for. I leave the next day (I would leave a note, I’m not completely cruel).

     Luke likes Pistachio Haagen Dazs. Luke dislikes his cold sores and his roommate[s] (still).

 

Post for 13 April 2008

Sorry that it’s been a while since I posted. I’ve just been a bit busy. I’ve actually been having a lot of fun, and probably too much fun right now. I’ve finally started to socialize a bit more but that means more invitations to parties and things that I am not used to doing. I went drinking two nights in a row and then on Saturday I went out to San Francisco to meet up with a guy. It was sooo much fun. He’s sweet and the sex was good. No, it wouldn’t become a relationship, but he’s the kind of guy that I would be after if I were looking for a relationship. Hah, my roommates still think that the only reason I go into San Francisco is to visit my aunt. I can’t tell if they’re stupid or they just don’t care. I mean, how many times can I visit my aunt? I don’t know. It doesn’t bother me that they don’t know that I am gay, it just makes it a bit inconvenient sometimes. Like I wanted to be able to arrange for the guy to come over to the apartment, but because of my roommates and my in-the-closet-ness it wasn’t really something that would work out. Seriously, living with seven other people is not working for me. I think MAYBE three others is an okay amount of people, but at a certain point, there are just too many people in a limited amount of space. It’s already evident that whatever tolerance we had of each other is starting to wear thin. People are starting to talk about each other behind backs and sometimes it’s actually direct. Thankfully there have been no fights or anything, but I think that if there weren’t so many people in the same area, I could have guys over more often than never and that there wouldn’t be so much tension.

Yeah, it’s kind of like this, only without the happiness.

     Gah!! I cannot wait for this year to be over. Seriously it was just one big waste. I thought that a summer watching two kids was a lot! Psha, I’d rather be doing that right now. Oh well, three more months. I need to start getting on track in school. I don’t want a repeat of last quarter. eww. I finally got my math class to be graded on Credit/No Credit basis. That, by the way is a good thing. My GPA got so fucked last quarter because I got a C- in a stupid, completely unnecessary class. Whatever, can’t do anything about it now except do better this year. Hopefully it won’t keep me out of Fordham.

     So, I have become a shameless Anderson Cooper worshipper. How could I not though? He’s a great journalist and makes me want to do better. But let’s be honest, the first reason I even started watching that show [Anderson Cooper 360] was because he’s fucking gorgeous. I’m not ashamed to say that, hence the “SHAMELESS Anderson Cooper worshipper.” It makes it so much more frustrating because there is so much speculation over his sexuality that it makes it almost conceivable for me or any other gay man to have realistic fantasies about quickies in the CNN newsroom… yeah. Anyway.

     So, Suzanne, one of my best friends, tells me that she “loves” her 44 year old boyfriend. Have I mentioned this here? I might have since I’ve been blowing steam from it since she informed me of this fact a few weeks ago. How stupid!! She’s 18, he’s 44, somehow, I think that there is a bit of an age difference there that can’t be overcome. Either way it’s a bad thing: 1) They’re both in different places in their lives and looking for different things which will just lead to a bad ending to a stupid relationship or, worse, 2) There is such a huge age difference in their lives but they’re at the same point which is just sad because no 44 year old should be in the same place as an 18 year old. Immature much? Shit!

     Now that I have moved from that I will move on to lighter things. I am OBSESSED with The Strokes and Manu Chao. They’re both amazing in terms of their lyrics. Musically I can’t tell. I don’t know enough about instruments etc. to say whether or not they have any talent musically, all I know is that my ears don’t bleed when listening to either of them. Manu Chao sounds pretty simple [repetitive] but that just means that they actual music doesn’t take away from the what he is saying. With the strokes, one of my favorite things to do is to listen to a bass line in the song “Is This It” that goes against the rest of the music; well not against it, just not with it.

     Oh, and on a last note, I am in LOVE with “Sticky Toffee Pudding” Ice Cream from Haggen Dazs. Holy shit, soooooooo good. Okay, I’m out.

 

Post for 31 March 2008

     I’m back!! So New York was fun, but we lost an entire day in the city because there was traffic on the freeway to LAX and we missed out flight into New York. We had to schedule another flight, but then there was a 6 hour layover in Detroit when we had to wait for our connecting flight. THEN there was a two hour delay on the flight into New York because the airport that we were flying into, Newark Liberty, was too full to accept the flight. The trip to New York took a little under 24 hours… a flight that should have been less than 10 hours. But once we got to New York it improved a little bit. Our first night there, we went to a nice little restaurant not too far away from the hotel and my parents freaked out over paying $66 for dinner. I say, get over it. It’s not as if you’re poor and you knew that New York was a bit more expensive than California, though I say $66 for four people is fairly cheap for a meal. We went back to the hotel because we were all exhausted from that damn flight. The next morning we went to Fordham to look around. We got to explore the subway system!! It actually wasn’t as bad as I had expected it to be. Nothing really smelled, the trains weren’t horribly crowded stuff like that. It went so far as to impress my dad (which is really hard to do when it comes to public transportation). I loved the school. My mom and dad, I think, liked it too, but wouldn’t admit anything past an, “It’s okay” or “It’s pretty” but I’ll take that. We finished up with Fordham and my parents wanted to go to Yankee’s Stadium because they’re going to tear it down pretty soon. My dad got bored, though, because we weren’t allowed into the building. After that we went to Central Park and walked around looking for the Met. Once we found the Met, my parents again freaked out because they didn’t want to pay $60 for all of us to get into the museum. I suggested to them to let me go alone and meet them up later on, but they didn’t “want to separate. We’re a family.”… omgah!! get over it. Shit! We obviously want to do different things, why don’t we separate to have some individual time and enjoy ourselves. We can do something together later on. I don’t know, that’s what I think, at least. We went back into the park to get to the subway to get to a different part of the park called Strawberry Fields because that’s where John Lennon’s memorial is and my dad and brother are big fans of John Lennon. I didn’t mind it so badly. It was quick and we saw a bum fight! It was really cool. They kept yelling at each other and then they would approach like they were getting ready to fight and then they would back off and yell some more… it was hilarious. We left the park to go to Ground Zero. Okay, some people might hate me for saying this, but I didn’t want to go there. I’m sure it would have been cool to see if there was some monument or something there, but now it’s just a construction site. Literally. It’s fenced off with green plastic mesh around the fence so that one can’t look through the fence and a plastic scroll on top of what the city plans to do with the site. We left Ground Zero to look for dinner and got lost. Once we found our selves again, we went out to look for some place to eat. We had dinner at a Pub and that was a fun time. Nobody did anything too stupid, but, of course, my dad had to be “a swell guy” and joke around with the wait staff who were clearly uncomfortable with him doing it. After that we went back to the hotel. We left the next morning.

     Okay, so now that I’m done with that, I need to ask: Is it wrong to be fantasizing about an animated character in a Disney movie? Seriously! I’ve been, like, fantasizing about Tarzan for a while now. I think that’s weird, but my god that drawing is sexy! I looked Tarzan up online with an image search and nearly splooged all over myself. Well, I look forward to any answers that might show up. See ya! 

 

Post for 19 March 2008

So… yeah. I had two finals today. Neither of which I studied for, but that doesn’t meant that I didn’t do fairly well! I think. I hope. Well, anyway. Last night was pretty fun, I was playing dominoes with my roommates at one in the morning (when I should have been studying or sleeping) and I was eating a bowl of Cream of Rice. My roommates hadn’t heard of Cream of Rice and there was all this speculation over what I was eating and what it was made out of, even though I clearly said “Cream of RICE”. Now, I grew up eating this stuff, so it seemed absurd to me that none of my seven roommates had ever tasted or heard of Cream of Rice so I asked if any of them wanted a bowl. Jeff said yes so I told him how to make some. When one is making a bowl of Cream of Rice using a microwave, it is necessary to pull the bowl out of the microwave after every 30 or so seconds; otherwise the food will boil over. I EMPHASIZED this to Jeff who seemed to comprehend what I was saying; still, he proved me wrong. While we were playing, Jeff looked briefly at the microwave and shouted “shit!” and went to the microwave as fast as he could. When I looked, I saw that the Cream of Rice had not only boiled over the edge of the bowl, but it had actually gotten all over the inside of the microwave. I am not even joking. The door and the sides were covered in the stuff. I couldn’t stop laughing when I saw that. Normally I wouldn’t have reacted in such a manner. Normally I would have had a smug, self-satisfied look on my face that said, “I told you so. I’m not going to verbalize what I’m thinking, but I told you so.” This time I couldn’t stop laughing. I think it was the look on Morris’ face, the fact that it was 1 a.m. and that I had two finals in the morning that made me relax and just laugh. My description may not be that funny, but holy crap it was hilarious.

         ah, Jeff 

     So, I leave for home this friday. I am so not excited about this. I shouldn’t say that. I have mixed feelings about going back home: I am really excited about going back to see my friends and catching up (because I am desperate to see a face that I actually like) and when I go back, I’m going to be going to New York to visit Fordham University. I just don’t want to be with my family. My mom and dad aren’t the most accepting people when it comes to diversity. Like, they must know I’m gay, it’s impossible that they don’t know, but they refuse to acknowledge it. To them, I am going to get married, have a kid and live in a suburb just like them. In their eyes, “this whole gay thing” will pass. It’s gotten to the point where it’s just easier to play along. Of course, if they ask me directly to my face, I’m not going to be hiding anymore. I’ll tell them. I’ve finally gotten to that point in my life.

     Okay here are some likes and dislikes of Luke (me): 1. Luke likes that feeling of completion just after sex, but before he has to deal with the whole “call me” thing. I mean, shit! You got laid, move on with your life! Unless of course the feeling is mutual. Sometimes it is. 2. Luke dislikes roommates who insist on having the loudest, most obnoxious ring tone for calls AND who decide to use their loud, obnoxious ring tone to wake them up at 6 a.m. when I don’t have to be up until 8 or 9. These are the things that get your annoying ass pushed out of the second story window when you’re not looking, people! 3. Luke likes people (for the most part). 4. Luke dislikes people who decide to do pushups in the middle of the aisle in the library during finals week and then get made at me, as if I’M the moron being a safety hazard and keeping people from doing what they need to do. 5. Luke likes laughing at stupid people. If you pass by and I laugh, I’m probably doing it because of you. Sorry… no I’m not. 

     FYI. George Carlin=my hero.

     I’ll be gone next week. I’ll be at home and have very limited access to a computer. But there’ll be stories to make up for it