wise guys realize there's danger in emotional ties!

So, who guessed that The Wrestling Season would make me cry? Two and a half times, no less, because Kenny sees fit to break my heart in every show he's in. And it was fantastic that Brian Lee was there, and before the talkback he was reading about hate crimes and he was like, "I do not know this go on here still. Not in America." That man! Because before the show, he was trying to explain to some guy that it didn't feel right to call himself straight, which sounded like he was coming out. After the guy walked off, Brian said, "I think my friend catch the wrong meaning in what I say," and I had to agree. Oh, Brian.

We ended up going to the cast party - Jeff and Jordy and Marshall and Chris and I - and having a really incredible time. Spent a long time on the couch with Chris, guarding our drinks and encouraging him to get it, get it. Once he gathered up the nerve, I had to keep accosting him in the bathroom to find out what was happening; it was this ridiculous broadcast. Carl kept saying, "Jen, I would so do you if you were straight," followed closely by, "Why the hell did you cut your hair? Grow it back!" Validation! Each time a straight guy tells me to grow my hair back, it feels unspeakably good. Jeff and I laughed a ridiculous amount while sharing a bitch drink "like a shake," but without two straws. Marshall and I passed out in my room before we could even get ready for bed, before we could trek back to the Willage. And she spent about two hours waking up this morning, sorting through all the bad dreams I had last night. Bad dreams - but no rape nightmares. It's a step up, I guess, or would be, if the dreams hadn't shaken me so much.

My professor keeps messaging me to see if Marshall and I want to have dinner with him tonight, which is really nice, particularly because he knows I'm a headcase right now. The other day, I clung to his arm for a minute to keep from crying in the lit lobby area. This is not okay. I need to plan my way out of this bullshit.

So, here's the plan for today: take a really long, really hot shower; eat something warm; write my poetry event responses and my Maedchen in Uniform paper, finally; see The Vagina Monologues at three; see Marshall's family at some point; get my shit together. And anytime this plan is failing, or I start to feel like a failure, you know what I am gonna do?

Watch Wham!'s "Young Guns (Go For It)" video, which Robert introduced me to, and which is like George Michael's coming out party circa 1983. Please watch it - you'll be so much better for it.