I've been teaching a 6:15am yoga class lately as part of some kinesiology grad school program at The University of Texas. Thankfully, it will soon be over. However, there has been a very nice thing about getting to campus before the sun rises.
Both the Army ROTC and Air Force ROTC cadets do their morning PT at the gym at 6am. I think I could definitely become a... solid... um... supporter of the military.
...till Brit Boy arrives.
Mind racing? Yuppers.
Excited about seeing him for the first time in almost three months? You better believe it.
Nervous about our connection, especially given that he is now a single man? Words cannot express the butterflies and knots in my stomach. (Oh... and yeah. I didn't write about his break-up. Not my place to. But no... I was not a home-wrecker.)
He arrives this Friday. 8:40pm.
Hopefully it'll be sometime Wednesday before I can tell you if it's going well or not.
It was called a Red Dress Party. Everyone was to wear a red dress. And, for the most part, people did. I wasn't originally in the mood to go to a party. I had spent the day twisting people into pretzels and working in the yard. I was t-i-r-e-d. But I was told that it was a party being put on by a bunch of Austin burners, a group of people that I was intrigued about, but had yet to be introduced to.
For the most part, people were... nice. I was introduced and friendly, party-style conversation ensued. Where are you from? Oh, you've been to Burning Man? Who do you camp with? Oh really?!?
But behind some of the conversation, I could sense something. There was some discomfort. My friend Sarah and I were in a room, chatting with a straight couple. After my introduction, they never once looked at me. I made several contributions to the conversation, but eye contact to me was never made again. They soon leave.
Another guy walks in and starts chatting with us. We're all sitting on the bed, facing one another, but he seems so much more interested in talking to Sarah. This, actually, is not surprising. She's a very pretty, very flirtatious woman. To let her have her fun, I'm only making intermittent contributions to what is being said. I'm just sitting on the bed, listening, swinging my legs slightly. I accidentally hit this guy's leg with one of my swings. Just a tap. While she's still talking about something, he quickly looks at me like I slid my hand up his leg into his crotch. He stands up, turns his back to me, sits back down, and commences to talk only to Sarah. I take the hint and excuse myself to the bathroom.
I enter another room, and am called over by a friendly man who I later find out went to my high school alma mater. He's sitting in a group watching two bare-breasted women engage in activity fitting a poem by Sappho. As I sit down next to my fellow alumnus, the circle closes behind me, leaving the two Jesuit boys outside.
Near the end of the evening, I'm outside with Sarah and her husband, chatting with a group. One man is regaling the group with drunken and debaucherous stories. At this point, I'm rather over the people at this party, but I continue to be civil and social. My friends apparently like these people so I'm not going to make a scene. I leave for a second to refill my drink, and as I return, one of the group pulls the circle in tighter so that I have to stand behind them, as an outsider looking in.
As we're leaving, my friends tell me that I should really consider going to Flipside, the regional Burning Man event outside of Austin. They tell me how I'd love all the fun times that are had with the people there. The people that I just spent the evening with. I smile, nod, and tell them that I'm much more focused on my chosen family with which I attend the main Burning Man festival. My family that is inclusive, loving, open-minded, and accepting of all that come through our beaded curtains.
I've started an experiment. An experiment to reduce my reliance on my car. To reduce my consumption of motor vehicle fuels. To reduce my carbon footprint.
I'm riding my bicycle around town instead of using my car for most of my transportation needs.
After one week, there are a few things that I've noticed.
My world here in Austin is very small. Part of this is due to me having a pretty standard routine and traveling the same paths day in and day out. I have now started using alternate paths, and coming to know the neighborhoods around me much better.
Austin has some hills, yo! Now, My San Francisco friends will scoff at me, but still... these are pretty fun. And a little daunting at times.
I've found that I'm much better at grouping errands together. There's more involved in just popping over to the store if you're on your bike.
Riding to work in the morning really wakes me up. I've been so much more alert when I start work. My co-workers don't know what to do with a chipper and energetic morning me. They're so used to one that simply grunts and shuffles his feet until about 10am.
and finally... my caloric intake has skyrocketed. I swear, I don't know when I've ever been eating as much as I am right now. And I'm still slimming down.
I had just finished dinner with some friends in North Austin and was on my bike heading back home. That's when I felt it. The feeling that I know so well. A tension growing in my groin. It's like my underwear is too tight and I'm straining against it. I shift on my seat, attempting to ease my discomfort. I stand up on the pedals, but the movement of my jeans against my crotch only intensifies my discomfort. My body is telling me that I need relief, and I need it now.
My path home takes me through the Capitol grounds. I stop, thinking that I might be able to quickly head inside and take care of matters. The doors are locked and I don't have my security badge to grant me access. CRAP!!
It's growing. More urgent. It's like a knot in my crotch, begging to be untied. I need the release.
I hop back on my bike, and sprint through downtown. I start to think of quicker routes back to my house. Can I handle this tension for the ride up the massive hill that leads into South Austin? Suddenly, as I'm racing down one street, the answer pops into view. I slam on my brakes, take off my helmet, and lock up my bike. I quickly enter a watering hole frequented by homosexuals. I head to the back of the bar, and it's like my body knows that I will soon be letting go. With every step the tension builds, as if I'll be able to climax in ten seconds flat.
I enter the bathroom, walk up to a urinal, and the sense of relief runs through my body as all those iced teas I consumed at dinner flush out. My knees almost buckle as I exhale deeply. Now I understand why some men sigh loudly as they urinate.
I've been teaching a 6:15am yoga class lately as part of some kinesiology grad school program at The University of Texas. Thankfully, it will soon be over. However, there has been a very nice thing about getting to campus before the sun rises.
