Odds-n-ends

I found out tonight that a classmate of mine with whom I've had a ... uh, let's say "curious" connection since we started the program last fall is actually this guy.

It reminded me of how little we know about one another. Even those close to us. Which he's not. He's just someone who's rather oddly on my wavelength.

This little tidbit was revealed about him in class tonight in a discussion about Csikszentmihalyi's ("Chicks-in-knee-highs," is my favorite mispronunciation) concept of "Flow." Turns out our dear gamer was, in fact, geekin' so hard on some old stand-up Atari version of "Star Wars" that he surpassed a world record by playing it for more than 54 hours on one quarter. And yet the main thing our classmates were interested in is how he relieved himself during that time. Dude. I just wanted to know how he managed to stand for 54 hours straight, much less stare at a video monitor.

But this wasn't the only illuminating moment of the day.

I also encountered a woman who is into this. She was ironing *something* -- I couldn't tell you what -- near the top of Victoria Falls in Zambia.

I was intrigued by this for several reasons: 1) exotic traveler, 2) long blonde hair, 3) single lesbian and 4) owns an iron. Not necessarily in that order, mind you.

Mainly, though, I was taken aback by the whole concept itself. How perfectly frivolous! It reminds me of my quest to photograph my action figure of Captain Janeway at various and sundry exotic locales. Alas, I keep forgetting to bring her along. Which is too bad, because she would've been quite charming posed on one of those goddamned porcupine trees in the Amazon.

But I digress.

I've also been asked out on a date several times now. By a man.

I keep trying to explain why that's not going to happen. But I don't seem to be making my point very well. He insists he is going to be rather persistent and very patient.

It is giving me a new-found appreciation for an obnoxiously similar behavior on my part with a friend who has the ability to light my fire but doesn't actually want to do so. I'm going to have to stop doing that. 'Cause ... goddamn! ... that's annoying.

Especially that part where he keeps going on about how I haven't met the right guy yet. (Which, mercifully, is a line I've never used on anyone -- from the girl angle, of course. 'Cause Puh-leeeeeeze!) As if I don't know myself after all these years of HAVING SEX WITH WOMEN.

However, I do have a classmate who insists I have to live another TWELVE years until I can say -- safely and fo' sho' -- that I be lesbionic to my bones. She claims some kind of "hormonal shift" in women is "relatively common" during their 40s and that I'm just as likely to start craving dick as I am to remain in solidarity with my sapphic sisters.

But you know what? She's a DAMN YANKEE. So I can't give any credence to that argument. I know what I like, my friends. And the closest she comes to having a dick is a strap-on you can throw in the dishwasher. I'm just saying'.