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Well, I guess you could say I asked for it, if you were the cruel type.
The class following the good interactions with the gorgeous and varied ladies, I walked in and joked to the class about the independent reading list( it seemed few of the class were interested in making their choice yet.) I jokingly suggested I would read the most laborious of the offered books, 'Bless Me Ultima' by Rudolpho Anaya.
I guess that was it...an early class joke that got her attention locked. But bide, I will explain.
Class began shortly, and it was discussed that next week we would (while still working on a paper to be turned in) we would go see Juno Diaz in San Francisco's hoighty Herbst Theatre for a lecture/interview with a balcony seat. After a short lecture, we were invited to get a partner or partners for analyzing and sharing our first paper outlines.
The girl closest to me was looking around for anyone but me to collaborate with. This is hardly new in my American experience, so I jokingly stand and hold out my arms, calling 'LFG!', thinking some guy would get the joke and come compare contrast.
And over walks supergirl. She said,
"I just have to see what you have written, you have a really interesting interpretation of the stories."
I nod, just as the girl who sits close to me suddenly changes her mind and decides she wants to group with us, to which I also have no objection.
"I really want to get a coffee first, you want a coffee?" I pronounced this desire genius, and off we went (the other girl demurred) and there I am, walking across campus with the most beautiful girl in the fucking world.
And I need to state this clearly...she is an ex model. From across the room, she looks like she might be pleasant. Up close, every imperfection only adds to her value. Every blemish shows her humanity despite the utter perfection of her wrists, her neck, her waist. She is a song on two legs. She demands poetry, nothing else will suffice. Last week, I remarked that the honors bar seemed to be set higher, and I hoped that was a harbinger of a different society. To be more accurate, I feel she is a sign of better society, point blank.
She launched the conversation about her paper, and asked about mine, and proved herelf again an honors student (there are people with the title but not the chops, people.) She drew close when she spoke to me, like a conspirator or a latino with a smaller sense of body bubbles.
We went back to class and analyzed our papers, our breaths smelling like coffee. The third wheel not only didn't have her paper done, not only didn't have anything to contribute, but basically used us to hide from the instructor.
My bliss and intellectual and aesthetic happiness was ended by everyone else in the class taking adventage of the instructor's offer to leave after they were done critiqing. I did not walk her to her car. I did not follow her like a love struck ape. I did not crush her into dust like I wanted to...like her choosing me from across the room seemed to invite.
I sighed like a sad bastard for three days. Have you done this, my future readers and emo friends? Has this been you? You should wish for such agonies my friends.
There is an argument that says I am making nothing out of a fellow student's intellectual curiosity and precociousness. There is an argument that like the girl who is suddenly sitting next to me but seems a bit on the dumb side, supergirl wants to leech ideas off me, or stimulate her mental energies (this could be like to like in brainstorm perspective-her only desire is to actualize.) I have been to high school too, friends, and I remember what those girls are like. This felt different; she was focused on the topic at hand, but she wanted to explain herself. She wanted someone to understand her personal injections into her paper outline. She wanted to hear a different perspective...and to be blunt, she wanted someone who could appreciate her intellect to read her words, which were so very personal, about racism from being biracial, someone who could understand getting it from both sides.
I think she was exploring, sharing and reaching out. At this point, she has come to me twice. If she does so at the Junot Diaz concert, I will be forced to assume she is sensing like to like, or sensing veteran wounds like those healing dogs the service trains, or she wants something beyond healthy student to student interaction.
I will not walk to her, though I will remain friendly. She will come to me or we will forget the entire matter. And if she does...I will have to learn more about her. I just might be receptive to hearing the rest of her story.
She alleged that her beauty was a double edged sword (I am certain that is bullshit they teach you at model academy but I am trying to remain open minded)that spoiled you utterly but left you open to manipulation at an age before you were ready to find life beyond materialism. I know there is more to this story. I am dying to hear it.
On the complete other hand, she wears a silver ring on her second left finger. She could be married, engaged or in a long term tryst. She could be lesbian or bisexual (silver rings were vogue for them in the 80s, who knows about now.) If she is interested in me, I care about those things for only a few seconds...but if she is sincere about her work and I am misreading her, well, I do her yet another misservice. I above all wish to do her no harm, despite her beauty it is evident some harming has occured.
Ensconced in the secure bosom of 12 units, I have reentered college as a desperate last step; this is the first time I have ever seen it so; I always had other options (I guess even now I could take four college courses and become a fireman probie or no classes and join Border Patrol at will) but my point is; I was driven to this by a failure to successfully transition to federal guard work as I desired with my enhanced security certifications; they didn't do shit for me and I was like, why not just get my fucking degrees and move on past all this petty poor man's life bullshit?
I saw it so clearly, I don't think I ever saw it before, it's odd to me that I feel motivated now but not to the same degree before, when the same problem has faced me since I exited the army.
Which is a long way to explain how I am having fun in my courses. This too is not unusual, but what is unusual is that something always has gone wrong by this point (about a month into my studies. I get fascinated by some game, I start grinding away at some MMORPG, I begin to write on a RPG to bring veracity to it and make it the best damn game my players have ever faced; I join some worldwide organization and get busy; something usually pops up and distracts me, venting my energy into another project; I don't do my homework, I don't do my readings, I slip, I fall, then I fuck up and don't even bother removing myself from the drop rolls, leaving worse marks on my permanent record. Believe me, I'm doing damage control on just such things now.
But I have finally hit some groove where what I think about without distraction is school...and my studies are having a cogent effect...the literature class is feeding my Film class, the African Psychology class is feeting my literature class, the Political Science class is feeding everything.
I tell you something else; it is not a change that I am in an honors english course, but this class is a combination of fairly good latin students who already are familiar with paradigms of latin literature, and honor students who could mentally work a lump of coal into something credible for an A if they needed to.
Tonight, I was in a classroom study group with a circle of women ranging from average but cute to literally world class model hot; a long haired blond drink of cold irish water, a beautiful former international model of black and mixed race, a russian emigre of pale gothic dreams and true blond hair with a style from the 1950s with electric blue eyes--and me!!
I had a surreal sensation...there is literally nothing these ladies can do for me I can't get at home...but criminy! What a round table!
We did what a study group does...I heard all the accents, and ideas, and they were all so brilliant I could practically see electricity crackling between any two who disagreed or fought to get their point out while someone else spoke. And I could not help nursing the thought; this is a bit more like it. My existence thus far...without my friends (who are easily brilliant) has been a world of sharing with people who lack a certain spark, whether that just be intellectual hunger, or drive...the ladies tonight showed me what a world where that spark was the rule rather than the exception might be like.
I was turned on in a way that made me sweat a little bit...was it their pheremones or was it my resolve not to stare...I don't know. I do notice when I am around intensely beautiful women, nervous energy fills me, but this was like coffee (I had a mocha earlier), free nervous energy (mostly controlled), sexual tension (lots of eye contact my god, it almost hurt to break contact with the model or the beautiful russian.
And now for some complexity. I am aware what the palsy has made of my former expressiveness. I am a bit of stone face (most people say they can't notice), and the fat levels don't reduce on both sides of my face at the same time due to inactivity on the right side. I am overweight from years of grinding on MMORPGS (my good friend Dan Fructerman warned me about reduced ability from playing MMORPGS too long, but he was right about them being awesome too.) I am 37 and greying, and I have recently cultivated a full beard. This is not the optimal physical appearance to acquire a devoted mistress with, so that's not a big worry (or joyful yet self destructive possibility.)
I fantasize about a reality where a mistress is not self destructive...I don't know if they are an affectation of another class...haven't quite figured that out yet. I suppose I will in time.
So....a hint of power resting in the association of honors...a feeling that this natural 'better' association is a result of positive seeking positive...and that for all the Wests so called wisdom about greater financial resources not necessarily equaling happiness (the Citizen Kane theory) I am finding that increasingly dumber; my friend recently entered the upper class, and she is getting ridiculously more solvent and happy. Some skeptics I have chatted with assure me that is a result of the individual's ability to find happiness; I allege that is some fine dancing around the point. Millionaires who can't find happiness seem to be either doing it wrong or are dealing with fame; fame is a unfortunate side effect of scope of resources that has nothing to do with money. A skeptical friend alleges that the same inability of the middle class to understand why the lower class won't raise themselves up out of povery is the same inability of me, Lower Class, to understand why Upper Class with money can't make themselves happy with it. All the shit they are crying about can be purchased; I think Citizen Kane was hopelessly shortsighted. Paris seems to be having a lovely time (though Ignorance is bliss and that definitely seems to be a major motivator with her.) I SOOOO prefer models who are also genius honor students.
Disclaimer: Thinking that Positive attracts Positive does not mean I forget the lessons of coming up through the lower class ranks. I will not get my degrees and suddenly find a world of nice people. People with means can be bitches too, but I do believe that those people are mere roadblocks and that I will meet less of them as I move my profession away from day to day interaction with the uneducated. The very nature of more sophisticated effect oriented interactions should itself be more harmonious; I don't expect everyone to be like the nice people I meet in college....but even getting close would be better than my previously shitty work days. People without a hope or prayer acting like it is just bullshit, pouring spoiled wine on molded paper; pointless.
I would wish this for my friends and family (maybe the good feeling, not the erotic charges) but they will have to find it for themselves; it is a elusive thing in my life thus far. Man, I really like it; it bothers me I didn't seize this earlier.
Well, Joe Biden has been the VP choice for 2 weeks now, and not much has been affected negatively. Those Hillary voters inclined to vote McCain haven't changed their stripes, and I don't think any less of the ticket because Joe is on it.
Senator Obama's nomination speech is the subject of a debate on whether it was a great speech or the most phenomenal DNC speech ever. That is good news as they say.
Meanwhile, at the RNC, Jim Crow 'Alligator Eating The Coon Baby' hats are being sold featuring an Alligator eating Obama instead, and selling quite well apparently. The differences could not be more clearly drawn between a slavish devotion to failed paradigms and a new path that will get to work on our problems instead of just shoveling money to the military industrial complex. Sleep You Dragon, Sleep Forever!
