I Never Killed My Classmates

My three most powerful memories of junior high:

  • Finding a spot behind the cafeteria building at lunch and sitting there alone so that no one would see me and realize I had no friends to eat with or talk to.
  • Carrying all my books and my dirty gym clothes around with me all day because I couldn’t work the locker and was petrified of asking for help.
  • Walking four miles to school one morning because my dad couldn’t drive me and I couldn’t cope with the fact that no one on the bus was going to let me sit with them.

Reading about the latest high school shooting incidents (a disturbingly common pastime lately) always gets me a bit reflective about my own teen years. Why? Simply because, under slightly different circumstances, I could have been that unpopular, isolated kid doing the shooting.

It wasn’t that I didn’t have many friends in junior high. I could have dealt with that. My problem was that I didn’t have ANY friends, not even of the similarly unpopular “reject” variety. I even felt inadequate even compared to the loser kids on the ABC Afterschool Special; at least they had Kristy McNichol or Leif Garrett on their side.

At school, I didn’t talk to anyone. I didn’t go to after-school events or the mall because I didn’t want everyone to see me by myself. I looked up the phone numbers of classmates I barely knew (and would never call) just to write them down in an address book I was given. I never spoke to anyone first, and only mumbled responses when someone spoke to me. I was embarrassed by my voice, my walk, my clothes, everything.

I often feigned illness for a week at a time, because I just couldn’t cope with school. I thought about suicide, about ways I could make my parents move so I could “start over”, and about any number of ways I could make people notice me in any way at all, especially in a manner which didn’t involve snickering or open taunting.

I’m not sure why some kids turn out so isolated and bitter — and sometimes so angry. I was painfully shy and lacked social skills. I had no talent for sports and was a “brain”. But other kids like this manage at least to find a few like-minded friends. Why didn’t I?

And why did I somehow manage not to kill all my classmates? I hated them and I knew where to find my dad’s gun. But I’d also convinced myself that I was the one with the problem, not my school chums. And frankly, I was a bit of a wimp. I’d never even been in a fistfight. Still haven’t.

But if things had been a little different, who knows what might have happened?

Eventually, I coped by dumbing down a little, by getting in some trouble, and by hanging out with the bad kids. My “in” was smoking and a talent for forging sick notes and hall passes. It’s unfortunate that it had to happen that way, but I don’t regret it. Otherwise, I most likely would have done myself in before my sixteenth birthday.

I’m 36 now. I have friends. I sometimes even engage in social activities. I’m OK now.

But I’m still lacking in social skills and I still spend most of my time alone. I get embarrassed doing things like yelling “back door” when the bus driver doesn’t open it at my stop. I rarely initiate a telephone conversation except with my closest friends or for business purposes. I don’t like crowds, and I’m uncomfortable walking up to a group of people I know for fear I’d be jumping in unwanted.

And I sometimes still feel like a lonely 13-year-old who’s embarrassed that everyone is looking at him and laughing at him for being dorky and all alone. I’m just glad I no longer see this as a reason to kill anyone. Myself included.

I promise to return to my usual sarcastic tone tomorrow. Sorry if this was a bit of a downer…

Gay Enough?

Another obnoxious unscientific test (courtesy of Dan). I got a 45, placing me once again in the very same boring middle I always manage to find. God knows I’d hate to be too straight or too gay. I stay awake nights worrying about it…

Bad news of the day: Hamburger Mary’s has been purchased by the guy who owns Harvey’s on Castro Street. I can scarcely imagine the potential horrors to be inflicted upon this South of Market institution in the coming months. I can only predict it will be brighter, much more “gay”, and unspeakably boring. Blecch…

Speaking of food, two people I work with have expressed surprise this week upon learning that I cook. Is that good, bad, or just a sign that I eat crap at lunch?

Other common misconceptions about yer humble host (a continuing series):

  • That I spend a significant portion of my life trolling for sex in Folsom Street sex clubs and backroom bars.
  • That I spend hours online every day (possibly doing the same thing).
  • That I’m a “bear” or that I’m “into leather”.
  • That I eat a steady diet of fast food seven days a week.
  • That I have a particularly exciting or interesting life.
  • That I will believe a piece of email is “urgent” just because it’s marked that way.

I have a headache. I will stop now…

The Weekend

 

OK. Where was I?

Juan Felipe was here on Friday, which made for a more entertaining than usual afternoon. We ate lunch. We walked around in the Mission. We talked about our parents. I like him. I knew I would somehow…

 

Photos above are from my new favorite Italian restaurant in Oakland. They’re there because I like the place, because I love the grape chandelier, and because I don’t really have too much else to say today other than that it rained this weekend. A lot. I just sort of watched it, which is probably why I feel so groggy today. Who says you have to get drunk to have a lost weekend?

Random unrelated thing I don’t understand today: why will a guy who has no problem letting you spooge in his mouth shy away from a friendly kiss afterward?

Welcome to March

It’s going to be a long month. Three sites in mid-redesign, one starting from scratch, one porn series in mid-bang, and a mad rush to finish it all before taking a three-week vacation in April. I probably won’t be very chatty for a while. And I’ll probably be cranky when you hear from me at all. Don’t say you weren’t warned…

Yeah, like I’m ever NOT cranky…

Actually, I was almost giddy a few minutes ago. I’ve made an important discovery: an entire block on a South of Market alley with NO PARKING RESTRICTIONS. None. No time limits, no curbs of any color, no residential permit requirements, and (get this) no street cleaning…

In theory, I could legally leave my car there until the end of time. Or until the Department of Parking and Traffic catches on. Which will be soon, I imagine, as this is likely one of the only streets in the whole damned city where parking is completely unregulated…

And no, I’m not revealing the location….

Credit Cards

I just got my Sears Gold Mastercard in the mail today. Funny thing is, I never REQUESTED a Sears Gold Mastercard. Anyhow, it’s got rental car insurance, so I’ll probably keep it…

I learned a lot about credit cards in my early 20’s. Mainly that I shouldn’t use them unless it’s an emergency or I mail in a check for the amount owed as soon as I get home from wherever I bought whatever I bought…

Speaking of which: did anyone else have a Choice Card back in the 1980s? If so, it probably means that you (a) are over 35, and (b) learned a lot about frustration from trying to find places that accepted the damned thing…

Updated: Yer Humble Host at a Glance.

Equalization

I’ve been in a mildly unpleasant, uncertain, and anxious frame of mind all month. Fortunately (or unfortunately) I’ve been way too busy to pay much attention to it, what with lots of work, random visitors, and one minor communicable disease. Now I’m caught up on work and have a full weekend with no real plans to speak of. I’m almost dreading it, for fear I might start dwelling on every little thing that’s nagging at me right now…

And no, I’m not going to bore you with any of this right now. I’m also not going to promise that I wont do so later. But you can always change the channel…

I will, however, say that it has to do with the fact that I seem to have eliminated all the high and lows in my life for one comfortably monotonous mid-range. And I’m a little concerned that I’m not a little more concerned about this…

Dinner tonight at the Dead Fish in Crockett with Dan, Dan’s mom, and Jamie. We all took my mom there last fall when she was here for a visit too. And we really should eat there more often without waiting for semi-annual parental visits. You should too…