Crushing Krisis

Comic Books, Drag Race, & Life in New Zealand

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I’m typically a two meals a day kind of guy, at best. It’s really more like one meal and a package of pop tarts. I haven’t gone an entire week of eating what amounts to breakfast, lunch, and dinner since before the beginning of highschool. Even when i was in Boston where i was sure to eat breakfast and dinner (typically the hardest meals to get me to sit still for) i still managed to skip out on lunch each day. Sometimes i come upon unusual days of low energy and high appetite, but they are few and far between. Until last week.

Within the last week i have slowly but surely been sneaking ever-so-close to three meals a day; not the most solid three meals in the world, or the most healthy, but three distinct servings at three separate times of day. In theory i’m all for this; i have no problem spending money on food if i’m actually going to consume and enjoy it. However, there is one slight problem in this situation…

I’m pudgy. There, i said it. At first it seemed like a subtle kind of thing, and i thought that maybe that i’ve had a few beers in the past month, but all of a sudden i have this tummy and it sticks out past my waistline and magically i’m twice as hungry as i ever am. I get just as much exercise (more than last year) as usual, and it’s not as if i’m getting any taller, and my meals vary from cereal to chicken to giant salads (no pizza, no hoagies), so unless this is my body’s way of preparing for some freakin’ seasonal hibernation, i’m not a happy camper.

https://crushingkrisis.com/2001/10/6764951/

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Scattered. Last night was a weird scattered night because i went from being virtually invisible on Friday night to being central, and it was a wholly different feeling than i usually have and i think that’s why i had a good time. I went shopping for supplies, i ran out to make sure we had supplementary drinks, i got everyone together at the party for a little group chat, and i suddenly knew all kinds of party things i had only ever barely observed when it came down to it. At the point in the party where i am usually miserable and ready to implode i was serene and just wanted to stop pounding at my brain with anything i could get my hands on and head home. And, so, we did.


It was so very different… like the difference between being a ghostly cipher of a person who can barely make his presence felt as a tiny whispering breeze and a real tangible thing that can touch and feel and manipulate anything i can get my hands on. I had an effect on events. I am inextricably woven into the story. I am a supporting character that is so regular that i appear in the opening credits.

I should be on the credits. After all, it is my show.

https://crushingkrisis.com/2001/10/6681543/

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In Com Theory last week we touched upon Mead’s Theory of Symbolic Convergence, and one of the primary principals of it is the concept of the “Other,” which is the version of ourselves that we create based on society’s view of us. Without delving too deeply into the theory, basically when we refer to ourselves as “me” we are referring not to what we are, but what everyone else has labeled us as. And, in light of all of this, i just feel like i am in a constant power-struggle to keep “I” somewhere close to “me.” If you take that a step farther you could imply that people’s definitions of me inevitably reflect on my behaviour because i am either conforming to their expectations or trying to subvert them.


If you can’t see how fucked up it is for that to be imposed on a still-developing person for the entirety of their adolescence and young-adult life i’ll have to lend you my textbook sometime.

https://crushingkrisis.com/2001/10/6486287/

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Everyone has learned how to respect me during our time at Drexel insofar as everyone makes an assumption about my sexual preferences and gender identity and then gets themselves proven wrong (by their closeminded standards) by my flirting with girls and watching football. But, i keep them confused, much to my partial delight and eternal chagrin. I give lap-dances to boys at parties, or i mention that there are cute freshmen of both sexes to be had in the play.


People are so quick to assign labels that they often forget exactly how people really work. My friends have learned in the past two years that i generally don’t label easily and so they just leave me be, but when everyone’s sitting around drunk and loose-lipped people say things. And they hurt. A lot. Last night we were playing “I Never” and i was the only person in mixed company who had never kissed a boy — and i haven’t, ever. It’s not to say that i never would, but i am generally not attracted to men and haven’t had any reason to lay lips on another boy in anything other than a friendly manner.

First someone was incredulous… was i sure i hadn’t? Next i was told “that you lie alot anyhow.” And then a third person chimed in that it was ironic considering… “Considering what?” …. “Well, considering that you…”


Of course he didn’t say it, because no one wants to be outrightly awful to me even when their lips are loosened with liquor, but we all heard what he was saying; it was ironic because i was the gay one. The theme repeats. I mentioned that i never had sex with Selina and they all asked why not; i truthfully replied that it was because i didn’t want to be entangled with anyone on that level at that point in time, regardless of whether it was a consideration of our relationship or not. And they laughed. Of course, they said, i wouldn’t have sex with a girl… of course, they pointed out, i would have a good reason not to.

I’m getting tired of these arbitrary social boxes. Yes, my manner of speaking and gesturing has a primary association with “gay” stereotypes. Did it ever occur to anyone to ask me if i enjoy talking like i do? After talking like this for twenty years, and learning all of my tonal and indicative qualities from a group primarily composed of women, can i really change overnight? Did they ever think to ask if i would if i could? For all the haircuts i get and tight shirts that i wear, i still get boxed up neatly — even if no one normally says it it becomes quickly apparent when everyone checks their appropriateness and grabs a beer.


I am so sick of it, and so sick of myself. Everyone else is allowed to flirt with who they want to flirt with regardless of motive. Our masculine male friends get to make out with other guys as a lark at parties and never hear two words about anyone doubting their sexuality. But not me. I have struck such a precarious balance with everyone i know that all i have to do is remark that a boy is attractive and suddenly my box is tightly packed again. I have no option of flirting with people just for fun, regardless of my reasons. I could never kiss a boy, no matter what circumstantial contrivance it involved. I’m too fucking busy trying to get everyone to just judge me for who i am to begin with to do anything else.

https://crushingkrisis.com/2001/10/6485607/