My Ex is Most Probably, But I’m Not 100% Sure, Gay
In homage to SoFi, who has a great series about her gay ex, my homage to my own possibly gay ex. (note: edited after she moved to a new blog address.)
I’m pretty sure one of my ex's is gay. And in deep, deep, abysmally deep denial about it. I met this ex, we’ll call him “Cold Dead Fish” - since that aptly describes his personality - in high school (I was in 9th and he in 12th). We dated back then and again in the late 90’s for a few months (I have - or had - this very nasty habit of recycling my men, as if I keep hoping that time and age have somehow made them better human beings or more tolerable – only to be proven horribly wrong a few months down the line). So, I think I’ve known the guy long enough to assess his sexuality. And even though it’s been years since I’ve known a thing about him, I’m willing to take a stab at this.
Reasons why he might be gay:
1. There was always something slightly effeminate about him. I don’t know if it was the way he crossed his legs or held his mug, or his slight build and the way he carried himself, but I always got this vibe… of gayness.
2. He seemed to be weirdly obsessed with hetero porn, and not in the typical guy way. First off, I’m totally down with porn. And I’m cool with a guy who dabbles every now and then. But Cold Dead Fish was so obvious about it, was so adamant that I (or anyone) know how fabulous enormous tits were to him, that it basically seemed like he did protest too much. I think he porned out, subconsciously forcing himself to be into it, in an effort to reinforce his non-gayness. Thing is, I’ve known a number of guys (and a girl or two, actually), who have done the same thing: constantly announce to the world how hot and sexy the opposite sex is, how awesome “tits” or “dicks” are, when in fact they were gay and in total denial about it. And seriously, unless you’re 13, who the hell – in the middle of a normal conversation in a social setting – says “Damn, that woman is hot. I love tits!” every time someone makes a comment or compliment about someone? Again, protesting too much. And methinks that makes you gay.
3. You know when you just have a gut instinct about someone? That’s my gut feeling about him.
In fairness, I actually think he could be bi. But since he’s in denial about the whole thing, we’ll never know. My guess is that he’s now married to a big-breasted woman. And still amassing a vast collection of hetero porn.
And why this post at this time? Honestly, I’m not trying to be malicious, I swear. Someone brought up Cold Dead Fish to me a few days ago, and they mentioned how anti-social he was and how uncomfortable they always felt around him. And that got me thinking about him, and that old "I think he's gay" feeling came right up. In hindsight, I thought that about him all the time. And as the female dating the potentially gay guy, it plagued me quite a bit. And I can't help but believe that this thought wouldn't persist if there wasn't something to it. And I don't even think this is a bad thing, because gayness? Whatever.
I honestly do believe that if he really is gay, his denial is real, and I don't think he dated me in a conscious effort to suppress his true inclinations. I'll give the poor Cold Dead Fish that much. And yeah, he might not at all be gay. But the vibe was there. At least, the vibe that something was, well, fishy, was there.
I hope CDF finds or has found his true happiness, wherever it may lie.
Dream the Bloggers
Becomming a blogging junkie is taking a toll on me - or my dreams, at least. I'm now dreaming of bloggers! Meeting them, having coffee, a BBQ, gathering for drinks, even a full-out blogger's conference.
I can point to a few things to explain this.
First, I found out about BlogHer. A bunch of mom/women bloggers getting together to discuss "how are your blogs changing your world?" The conference is so popular that the only way to get tickets (for a couple of months now) is through the generosity of bloggers who have extras to give away or sell. I won't be there - quite frankly, it sounds intimidating as hell, since some of these women are famous in the mom blogs community and most of them are way wittier, smarter and better writers than me, and although I'd love to meet them and learn from them, I'm too insecure right now to take on a whole conference of them. But how cool that all these women are doing this, for a second year, no less.
Then, I actually met a fellow blogger. And he was super cool and his wife was lovely and so were their firends. And I was happy. Then, in e-mails with one or two local bloggers, we've chatted about meeting up for coffee. And I want to do it. But am I crazy for worrying that real me will be a letdown from blogger me? I hate the insecurity that this heaps on me. I'll snap out of it soon enough, but still. It's there and it's socially handicapping me at a time when I have a chance to meet great new people whose work I admire.
Anyway, I went on to read this post on Critical Miami, and the commenters have been all, "I love that place," "I haven't eaten there in ages," and I got this flash in my head: Miami Blogger Conference 06 at the S&S. I almost added a comment about it but didn't, since it seemed like one of those geek thoughts that randomly pop into my head every few minutes.
But when all these people whose blogs I'm reading start popping into my dreams? I'd say I'm OD'ing on the stuff.
(a quick comment about the blogs I read: between the Gables blogroll and the one here, I've linked to the blogs I read, give or take a couple that no longer update. There are some other mom blogs I read, but there are way too many of them and I have yet to sit down and link up. I tend to do mutual blogrolling, since it's just developed that way, and I'm not sure what the actual linking etiquette is.)
Max Beyond His Mama
I forget most of the time that Max has a life outside our home and beyond me. When I dropped him off this morning with his Mimi, and she gave me a report of his behavior on Monday, it hit me that this kid has a social life that’s got nothing to do with his mama. And in this life, he’s almost a completely different person. I’m not sure what to make of this.
Max with Mommy
Max with mommy is an interesting little creature. The words clingy and boob-crazy come to mind. Mama comes into the room, and all hell breaks loose if she doesn’t immediately pick him up. Mama wears a v-neck top, snuggles him, or otherwise looks busy with some chore – and it’s a given that he’ll have to nurse every two hours on the dot. Or else. Mama puts him down and leaves the room, and the high-pitch wailing is instant and the tears just flow as if they’ve been lined up all day long, just waiting for this moment.
Max without Mommy
But when Max and his mommy are separated – by a nap, a dad, a Mimi, an abuela, or anything else – a different child emerges. This one is a laid-back little dude who’s perfectly happy to play by himself, who naps with nary a struggle, and waits longer periods to eat and doesn’t wail for food in-between.
Actually, from all I’ve read and been told (by my sister, who’s basically my #1 baby info source), Max’s behavior with me is completely normal and expected of children who breastfeed and have lots of mommy/daddy attention (as this kid does, since life pretty much revolves around him right now). Even though I go through moments where I’m like, “Everyone leave me the fuck alone – forever!”, I’m convinced that the fact that we’ve made Max and his needs come first in our home is what has led to his being so easygoing and easy to care for. Like, I’m giving him something that makes him feel happy and safe enough to keep it together and be laid-back when he’s in a new and different place. I don’t know, I could be totally wrong, but I don’t really feel that I am.
And also, I think I have to give a lot of credit to his Mimi. She really does a great job of caring for him. She’s affectionate, patient, and genuinely loves him. In fact, she is the sole reason I can go to work every day with complete peace of mind. But the fact that he’s around other kids, I think, is something that’s really good for him, too. I know he’s making friends and learning social skills. And I forget when it’s just the two or three of us at home that this little boy of mine has a life outside our walls – a world away from his mommy in which he’s learning important skills and all kinds of neat tricks, and in which he’s managing just fine, observing everything around him and then applying what he learns in his activities.
When he’s howling to be in my arms it's easy to forget that he gets along just fine without me. It’s a fact that makes me very proud of him and at the same time stabs my heart into millions of little pieces.