On The Mind at Midnight

Two things- Cleaning my shit up and fixing my style problem. Two topics intensely on my mind. But let's tackle the latter first.

It occured to me this week that maybe my place in gay culture was not so fixed socially as I had once thought. By that statement I mean that I have re-evaluated my persona and found that I am lacking in the style department where once I was up on all the newest styles and trends, much of that to my parent's rage. The never ceasing drive to stay up on the young adult looks was, in my parent's book, "worldly" and "sinful" because of its fixation on things "not of heaven." Bull shit. Or maybe that's what people should have told me when my style consciousness went to hell.

I honestly have no drive to wear outfits that make sense even on a practical level. I wear orange, very out of style for winter, and kahkis to work without batting an eye. I get up and put on whatever I can find. And here I used to be all against the "western fashion disaster" and its hold on wyoming. I'm a fuckin' contributor!

Where did this start? I have no idea. Maybe when I moved out of my parent's house. My life became a drawn out mess and center for disorder that maybe I lost it in all the chaos. I remember the laziness hitting while I lived in the attic of my friend's house and the beginning of my relaxed attitude. But I still had "it" even there. I remember occasions where I showed up in true college/preppy style and wowed the small masses. Maybe it started when I got wrapped up in the drama that was my job at Synergy Cafe. It seemed that as long as I showed up I was okay since the quality of dress there was quite a bit more relaxed than at Starbucks, which was my previous job. Somewhere in the last year I hit a low spot and I have not recovered myself in that area.

Some of this was startled awake by a crazily put comment by a style-less but funny transexual gay man at my church. Her excellent comments on my friends' outfits (I don't know that I agree with him even there, sorry babe) were delivered with smooth aplomb amidst our rush to collect our morning coffee in the social area. She stopped when her eyes hit me and as she leaned back to take in the full view of my disaster, she asked smartly what I was thinking. I was a bit taken back, having always been complemented, but also because the dame's own appearance was tragic from an alltogether practical point of view. Black jeans, shoes and a similar t-shirt with white lettering spelling out some sarcasm made up his look. It was definitely not the show-stopping garb of a mall display. It made sense only from a comfortable position. Mine at least matched in the color department. Never the less, the splash of cold water made me think about rectifying the damage before it became semi-permanent.

So tonight, as I sit here awake and thinking over the next half of this entry, pages of style tips and gay advice sit waiting for my attention, available to help with my problem. This will be something I will have to fix soon. But not soon enough. I am not in a position to buy anything to push me towards my goal of a style-soaked wardrobe. Money matters complicate things and may do their job of keeping me from some of the more upscale social circles of the younger gay population of Denver. I'm on the road to recovery, and that is the part that is important.

We come to the matter of my shit. My personal stuff. I have had it all in random boxes for at least the last two moves. The last time it was all repacked was when my "friends" packed it up to move it out of my appartment to accomadate my "friends" parents, an arrangement that I didn't know the whole story on until it was all on me. Past history. I'm too impatient and tired to care if you know about that yet or not. But it was a haphazard job, full of snooping and criticizing me for my spiritual beliefs and my opinions which were read out of my diary. God, that still pisses me off to think about. I'm done. I'm supposed to be in bed. I don't need to rouse my karma. Karma aside, my shit is getting repacked and I'm throwing out stuff I can't believe I didn't get rid of sooner. Softwar for Windows? What the fuck?

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