![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
Two Major Things to Work On:
• My compulsion to make people laugh. My first two years of high school, my perceived sexuality and gender ambiguity made me an object of torment. As I became increasingly involved in theatre and speech, the perception of my worth changed for the better. The more I entertained my peers, the more they treated me like a human being. I feel blessed to have developed this defense mechanism. My desire to titillate people has allowed me to excel in teaching, forensics, poetry, podcasting, and other forms of performance. Conversely, I feel compelled to entertain in interpersonal contexts in which my one-liners and other calls for attention seem inappropriate.
• Related to the above note, I would like to pull together anecdotal evidence that substantiates my secondary school difficulties and conduct an auto-ethnographic exploration of gay adolescence. Luckily, my father and stepmother saved almost every note from school and write-ups from teachers. I think they layout of the report would be reminiscent of my favorite book, Girl, Interrupted. This will definitely be my first project to complete after I finish my current project, an essay that chronicles my reaction to my father’s bout with and eventual death from Alzheimer’s disease.
To everyone who participated in my last entry, thank you. Many of the responses are mysterious, others are enlightening. I'm especially taken by my friend Elaine's entry. She writes: On that July evening in 1996: I would let him stand outside my door with his flowers & melting mint chocolate chip ice cream. I would pretend not to hear him knock. I would ignore how lovely he was when he waited for me; when he looked for me. I would let him go back to his rusty Camaro then I would cry for days, instead of years.
I also enjoyed Jeff's philosophical response to the query. He argues: So hard to answer when you think about the downstream ramifications...so, for example, if I unndid marrying Pam, and then try to rewrite my life such that I come to Austin as a single man, and meet Tonie here, then there's no Dylan and no Cassidy, so the decision I could do-over that would spare me the most pain would also take away too much. Hmm. Now I have Doc Bown in my head, yelling at me about the ramifications to the space-time continum like I'm Marty Mcfly.
If we assume a get-out-of-Bifftown free card, I'd marry Tonie earlier.
I suppose it's only fair that I share my own. I would have never started smoking. I was 12-years-old when I began that nasty habit, and, although I currently live a very healthy life, I know I've done irreparable harm to my body. I spent 18 years supporting an industry that kills people, so I also feel complicit in the disease and death of millions.
• My compulsion to make people laugh. My first two years of high school, my perceived sexuality and gender ambiguity made me an object of torment. As I became increasingly involved in theatre and speech, the perception of my worth changed for the better. The more I entertained my peers, the more they treated me like a human being. I feel blessed to have developed this defense mechanism. My desire to titillate people has allowed me to excel in teaching, forensics, poetry, podcasting, and other forms of performance. Conversely, I feel compelled to entertain in interpersonal contexts in which my one-liners and other calls for attention seem inappropriate.
• Related to the above note, I would like to pull together anecdotal evidence that substantiates my secondary school difficulties and conduct an auto-ethnographic exploration of gay adolescence. Luckily, my father and stepmother saved almost every note from school and write-ups from teachers. I think they layout of the report would be reminiscent of my favorite book, Girl, Interrupted. This will definitely be my first project to complete after I finish my current project, an essay that chronicles my reaction to my father’s bout with and eventual death from Alzheimer’s disease.
To everyone who participated in my last entry, thank you. Many of the responses are mysterious, others are enlightening. I'm especially taken by my friend Elaine's entry. She writes: On that July evening in 1996: I would let him stand outside my door with his flowers & melting mint chocolate chip ice cream. I would pretend not to hear him knock. I would ignore how lovely he was when he waited for me; when he looked for me. I would let him go back to his rusty Camaro then I would cry for days, instead of years.
I also enjoyed Jeff's philosophical response to the query. He argues: So hard to answer when you think about the downstream ramifications...so, for example, if I unndid marrying Pam, and then try to rewrite my life such that I come to Austin as a single man, and meet Tonie here, then there's no Dylan and no Cassidy, so the decision I could do-over that would spare me the most pain would also take away too much. Hmm. Now I have Doc Bown in my head, yelling at me about the ramifications to the space-time continum like I'm Marty Mcfly.
If we assume a get-out-of-Bifftown free card, I'd marry Tonie earlier.
I suppose it's only fair that I share my own. I would have never started smoking. I was 12-years-old when I began that nasty habit, and, although I currently live a very healthy life, I know I've done irreparable harm to my body. I spent 18 years supporting an industry that kills people, so I also feel complicit in the disease and death of millions.
1 comment | Leave a comment