August 15, 2005

I hope I hold a special place with the rest of them

I dated a girl once, did you know that?

Oh, the follies of youth. How ridiculous and raw they can be. Har de har har.

Don't worry, I only got to first base, so I didn't catch any of the "straight cooties." Well, maybe it was second base. I'm not exactly sure of the graduations, but to be honest, I also don't remember much about our physical transactions. They weren't much to write about.

That could be the meanest thing I've ever said in my life.

But really, dating her was a good thing for me. As soon as I was in a relationship, I suddenly felt more open about my "bisexuality," like she was a buffer. Of course, it meant that she and I gawked over cute guys more often that most couples, and when my bisexuality sort of faded into full-blown homosexualism, she couldn't have been completely surprised.

Anyways, so she IMed me yesterday. I'd like to think of myself as the kind of guy who's on good terms with his exes, because I read that you can tell a lot about a person by how they interact with their exes, but the last time I chatted with her it was about a year ago, when I first moved to Madison and I wanted someone's email address, and I get an email every four or five months from "the good ex," plus that awkward phone call last week, and rumor has it that Heart (aka the "bad ex") has been talking shit about me in the chat rooms.

(I only found that out because someone IMed me to say that he was planning on hooking up with him that afternoon, and wanted to know if the cock pic he sent was real.)

After recapping the obnoxious drama of my summer (Heart's douchery, my father's heart surgery, my sister's bipolar problems, my mom's menopause, etc) and recounting the current affairs of mutual friends, she mentions that she's become an English major now, with a teaching certificate, though lately she's been wanting to write, and since I am going to school for writing, you know, I'm the one to talk to.

Conversation conversation, advice suggestion conversation etc, and she asks whether I've thought about writing "my story," that big long, grandiose story of my life. I mention that I keep a (somewhat) anonymous blog, and I've sorta got a David Sedaris-lite thing going: personal essays, most with attempts at wit.

She then started getting into this thing about whether she could write for herself, or if the desire to rewrite history is too great. She'd also be too worried about forgetting someone, or leaving them out, or giving only a slanted view of their relationship. I recommended essays, again. Thinking in short stories, even autobiographic ones, is much easier, I think.

Which, of course, triggered all sorts of questions about writing personal essays, like who I'm leaving out, or who I'm maligning, or who I'm making too big a deal over.

Would she make it into my big, autobiographical novel, should I choose to write one? Would I appear in hers? Would I make it into "the good ex's?" Into Heart's? Would I make it into any blogger's big autobiographical novel, if they had a chapter about their online life? I'm a Leo, man. I want to know these things.

This is what happens in political circles, I know. Before people read the book, they read the index at the back of the book, to find out how many times they are referenced.

I don't think anyone here has read David Leavitt's Martin Bauman, but it's one of my favorite books, and it's one of those big semi-autobiographical. There's a bannerhead designed off of the coverart. The first sentence of a review I found of it reads
I have always had the suspicion that David Leavitt is not writing up to his potential. And now he decided to write a novel about it.
I have a feeling that if I ever start to write write, there is going to be many a review with that same sentiment.

Interestingly enough, on high school reports it never read "does not work up to potential" but if I had to think of a phrase to best describe myself, I do think that's the one.
Here lies a most ridiculous raw youth, indulging himself in the literary graces that he once vowed to eschew. Now he just rocks out.