I wish I could spend at least three days a week with Theo. That would be a luxury. But...our one-to-two-times-a-week get-togethers wll have to do, until January is over.

Last night, we (Theo and I) saw "The Royal Tenenbaums," which proved to be a wonderful film inside and out. Wes Anderson displayed his true cinematographic mastery by balancing honesty, humor, and schmoltz--all sewn together with the thread of a wonderful soundtrack. In my mind, Theo and I had one of his heralded "intimate moments" while watching the film--while we weren't crawling all over each other, I think the hand-to-leg-and-hand contact served its purpose well.

Tonight, I'm sure I will not remember my name. As long as I'm still invited to Shannon's...

I think I use the word "wonderful" too frequently.

So, Theo and I have resolved our differences (I'm not sure there even were any) and had a good time last night at Cosi in Oak Park. I've never had a boyfriend come and see a show I've been in, so it was a sort of landmark for me. Every relationship is one step further in the evolutionary process of my personality and sexuality. This is becoming quite a pleasant stretch of road in that growing process, what with Theo being so great and all.

The rehearsal is nearly over--it's not the most amazing show I've ever been in, nor is it anywhere close to my favorite show or role I've played, but I'm glad I partook in the All-State musical. It was a good experience. I just need my SPACE already. Too little solitude is not good for me.

The Jornada seems to be broken. Bastard.

Although Theo showed some concern for the well-being of our relationship in his last Blog, I will play the game by his rules and instead of directly contacting him, I will document it here.

MY fickle emotions? At least I have made some feeble attempt at displaying my increasingly apparent affection for Theo, through words and actions and whatnot. If he feels we don't see each other often enough, then perhaps he should take it upon himself to arrange some of our "dates;" for the past month and a half I have arranged each excursion time, and many of their locations. It's perplexing how he can distress over something when he very well could solve the problem. I'm really not as busy as he may believe. (Excluding this week.) How often could he and Nick have possibly spent time together? And this sitting business...hum.

I simply don't understand how or why, if these are concerns of his, he hasn't made any attempts to put an end to the unraveling of this "relationship," which, believe it or not, I hold very dear to my heart, and herald it as being one of the better life experiences I've had. If, of course, I am allowed to even call it that.

Per se: (adv.) In or by itself or oneself; as such. [Lat. per se]

Now that my last Christmas while living at home is complete, I do not feel very nostalgic or wistful. It's more of a feeling of nothingness--Christmas simply did not have the same wonder and excitement as it usually fares.

All-State ensues once again--must find fake fossod of happiness and love for theater in drawer I last shoved it in. I don't like wearing that mask much.

That is all I care to "blog" at this point. Everything else would be better kept to myself, I believe.

Last night was...I hate to use the word again, but I must...wonderful. I naively believe that every time Theo and I see each other, we grow a little closer. I think, however, that I am just seeing things that aren't there. But I feel connected to him, on so many levels. I just won't say anything to him about it.

"I spoke to you in cautious tones; you answered me with no pretense. And still I feel I said too much. My silence is my self-defense."
--"And So It Goes," Billy Joel

Otherwise, life is relatively grand. Work today should be interesting--lots of frustration and declined credit cards. I had at least five declined cards yesterday...I would shoot myself if my credit card were ever rejected. Merry Christmas to me.

My parents apparently purchased the Jornada for me. Thanks for taking the mystery out of it all, folks.

I will only have to spend THREE hours at my grandparents' house on Christmas Eve! How wonderful! My family on my father's side, you see, is replete with white trash. I have three cousins--one has a child and is unmarried and living with her parents; one has a child who has AIDS and works in a factory or something; the last just got out of boot camp for the Army (He's relatively well-off)and spent high school in Ambudsman (sp?). Needless to say, they hate me. And I don't particularly enjoy their presence, either.

Work. Then Theo.

Christmas...
I spent last night picking out my own Christmas gifts from my parents, and having them purchase them in front of my very eyes. I'm surprised at how little they spent on my sister and I--I suppose I'm not really that spoiled after all. It was rather horrible and unfeeling to pick out one's own gifts, however. Well, a boy's gotta grow up sometime.

Tonight, I worked. I enjoy Lisa; I think she's proof that one shouldn't stereotype by race. Matt, however, is a whore. I feel angry/upset that he was even attracted to me, and that I actually tried to believe that he was a decent human being. What was I thinking.

Tomorrow night, I'm going to be visited by the Ghost of Christmas Future (I wish): Theo. He's coming ver to my house late at night, after I get home fromwork, to watch a film. I'm making him see "Moulin Rouge;" I don't care how much he fights it.

And so he wins again.
I purchased beaucoup de presents for Theodore this evening. I don't know what motivated me to do it--he makes very valid points in his blog, regarding the fact that I barely know him and my over-generosity is not necessary or justified. I really have issues with trying to make everyone happy. I'm a true "server." I don't know why I like him so much, and why I feel so very unappreciated. Oh well--that is my life story. I am very, very commitment-frenzied, and don't know what the remedy to this ailment is. But, I'm glad he enjoyed his gift and glad I was able to come up with the cute, wonderful thing I said to him in my card.

And so my father discovers my blog. Christ in a casket...what else, dad, what else.

Christmas...shudder.

Word to the un-wise: Don't wear sandals without socks in the dead of winter. It sucks.

As always, Brad is resorting to official assistance in his meek, bland problems. This time, he has reported Theo to the Blogger police for reporting Brad's ill-moralled reputation in his journal. Of course, Theo consented to the alteration of his post, and the world becomes a bit more sheltered by law and government.

It's moot point, not "mute." I assumed he would have known that.

I got pulled over again today, and was hassled ad nauseum by Algonquin police officer. What a son of a bitch he was. Oh Lord...may he suffer in the cavern of Hell right next to mine own!

The IMEA CD came out distorted. Must purchase gifts this week from Old Orchard, which is finest mall in the Chicagoland area.

"I gave a piece to the rock star. He took the good stuff and ran."

It's really hard to type things here that are truly honest, because I have that time to think about my diction and whatnot.

I'm going to have to get used to being alone for the rest of my life. I know that I'm 17, and I know that I have many more exposures on this roll of film called life, but I just don't think I'm worthy/capable/deserving of not being alone. It's what I was designed for. And I really don't think it has much to do with my sexuality--granted, the fact that I have only 10% of the male population to choose from in regards to spending the rest of my life with, but that's not even a concern. I think my family will slowly dismiss me after I leave for college--they just can't have a gay son. Especially my mother. How would I ever be able to bring home someone to them for approval? It's not a decree I can see in the cards.

No...I'm not going to bring him up.

The problem with relationships is, for the first two months or so, I can feasibly see myself spending the rest of my life with someone. I wish I had a plausible explaination for that. But, I'm getting that feeling. The problem is, well, one of the problems is, I see things in relationships that aren't really there. The other problem is, I act on these feelings too quickly and scare away the potential mate. I'm just a very undesirable person on all levels, and that's a problem for me.

"And then fire shot down from the sky in bolts, like shiny blades of the knife."

I'll type a brief synopsis of each of the past four days, and today.

Friday: Worked, hated it. Wanted to quit. Rented "Hedwig and the Angry Inch." Enjoyed immensely.

Saturday: Worked, REALLY hated it. Can they really keep me in the cash wrap all day? Should be made illegal, if not illegal already. Following work, went to city with Theo. Dined for hours at Clark's. Loved it--had a splendid evening. Really felt connection with Theo--hoping he felt it too. Discovered a wonderful serendipitous thing: his ribcage has a protruding notch where my ribcage sinks in--we fit, in his words. I like the connotation. Did interesting things with Theo in my car.

Sunday, early morning: Awoke to mother screaming/crying, father yelling. Apparently, they were angry that I didn't call them through the night to tell them where I was. "Don't you ever do that to me again!" quoteth mother. Roll out of bed to sing in church. Know it's going to be a long day.

Sunday: Sang in church. Sounded horribly, due to illness/smoking night before. Worked immediately after. HatehatehateHATE work. Would like to quit, and (was) planning on doing so. Scheduled all the days I cannot work. Stuck in cash wrap all day. Eat lunch at Friday's, and see Jen Bogdanowski, who was obsessed with my cereal bowl. Recall night before, smile. Come home to family, who does not speak to me.

Monday: Tired. School horrible. Not pleased with AP English grade. Come home, go to work. Set up sections one and two for layout. Love Souk and Jackie. Matt is becoming tolerable; gave me gift. Must get him gift also. Parents didn't knw where I was...laugh silently to self. Bastards.

Tuesday: School fared well. Tired. Come home to mother, who now hates me. Tells me I "shouldn't fuck up my life any more than it already is." I'm sorry I'm gay, mother. Want to kill self, sometimes. Get registration matter halfway taken care of--must send ticket to state's attorney. Oops.

More detailed reports to follow--apologize for brevity.

I have so much to update. But not now. No, no...not now. Tomorrow.

So tired. Not good.

Days like today make me grateful I'm not pursuing music. Not grateful...they make me realize that music is not my ideal profession. I really don't have the passion for it, as my voice teacher so eloquently pointed out. Which is cool. If I DID have the passion, I wouldn't have let the other tenors suck as badly as they do, and would have known the words to "Caroling, Caroling."

I'm going to have to beg the guidance counselors to give me an extension on ym college applications. I don't have anything done! And I won't work on it tonight anymore. I need sleep.

Even though...durr. My mother forgot to wake me up (Yes, I am pampered dammit.) this morning, so after having a wonderful dream about beautiful vampires meeting in a large group in the basement of an old grand 17th century church in Beverly Hills or some exquisite place, with Rachel Hollatz as a main player in the story, I rolled over to look at my clock. It read 8:40. So, I missed two days of AP English. I'm not doing well.

Saturday is not approaching nearly quickly enough. Tomorrow night, smoking with Erin hopefully. Saturday, an evening with Theo. How splendid.

Allegedly, Theo did NOT perform oral sex on his first date with Nick. Regardless...having a large ribcage is no excuse for being fat, and it certainly is not a logical result of "lots of singing." I sing plenty, and in the proper manner, and while I am aware of the necessity of expanding one's ribcage to sing with fuller sound, or whatnot, my ribcage is adequately proportioned. Well...actually, it juts out directly above my abdomen. That is not a result of an abundance of musicmaking, but rather, the unfortunate set of cromosomes that have been passed on to me via my parents' engaging in sexual intercourse.

I need to be on time for our appointments from now on.

Hollister is the mistaken bastard child of Kohl's and Abercrombie. Do not, under any circumstance, purchase clothes from there. Unless you're into that...sort of thing.

I wish I weren't so scared of being honest with my parents.

I had my recording today. It was the first, and probably last time I've ever heard myself sing. My reaction? It was interesting. I wouldn't say I'm a BAD singer. It sounded like my speaking voice, only with vibrato and pitch. I don't know...it was not as torturous as I anticipated. That's what I was nervous about--not the recording itself, but having to LISTEN to myself! Jesus.

Theo performed oral sex on Nick on their first date. I thought he was a fat fuck...? I don't follow the series of events. It just seems like if I were physically attractive, he would have made some indication that he wanted to do more than just kiss.

Well, I'm seeing him tonight, so that will clear things up, or muddy them further.

S&M?

Christmastide--a season which brings the family together, and makes the members realize how thankful they were to be apart the other eleven months of the year.

My mother is stricken with a horrible disease, which I have somehow accrued over the years, in a MUCH milder form: anal retentiveness. She is insane. I love her, when she's not a neurotic simp.

Show choir is, in Theo's wonderfully-chosen words, "the cesspool of humanity." As far as musicians are concerned, that is. The things I do for Jacobs' music department.

Should I try out for the musical? Should I be writing the article for the musical for the paper? All signs point to no as the answer to these important questions.

How should I feel about being in All-State Honors choir and the All-State musical? Better than anyone who isn't in them? I don't think so, even though fact should...SHOULD...point to yes. For now, I will pin the reason for my exietence in these two groups of otherwise talented people on politics.

Theo.

I spent the day trying to remember what I wrote in my blog after the psychoanalytic blur I experienced last night, as a result of cramming five hours of homework into thirty-seven minutes. Oh...now I see. It's probably true. Oh well.

I saw another great movie last night--Memento. I need to immerse myself in all indie films worldwide. That is my Christmas goal. Oh, and I also must buy presents for people. Jesus.

Piano rehearsal went well--with my pianist, that is. She's great--I just wish she could take the Handel piece a wee bit faster. Or a lot faster.

Five days until all college applications must be finished. Shit.

I will never love, nor be loved, in that fashion.

I don't HAVE upper arms...I'm at a loss for understanding what he's talking about. I believe he meant lower arms...forearms. That's okay. I'm glad hw thinks it's odd we haven't done anything. Must schedule plans for Wednesday with him. Why do I always have to make the plans? Hm.

Poor Matt. I finally am proud of a decision I've made--to not do anything with him back when he was forcing himself on me. What a self-congratulatory moment it was when he started talking about his fallen relationship of late. Tee hee.

I love pajamas. Especially the ones I'm currently wearing. I look very sexy in them, too. Tight shirt + thin pj pants = sensual come-hither image.

Should I tell Theo I have a blog?

I feel very disconnected today. I don't know why. Lack of sleep? Medicine? Who knows.

Last nght was, as always, an enjoyable experience. The madrigal caroling was fun, even though it was very disorganized. Dinner and the movie were both very great--I really felt like we had a "connection" at this one point before the movie. I don't know what it was about, or what we were even discussing, but I had that surge of warmth and energy run from my heart through the rest of my body. It was sublime. Oh, and the Tuesday post was, in fact, about me. Sigh.

This is normally the point in a "relationship" where I start getting overly hopeful. Must quell feelings of optomism.

Work. Durr.

Aaah, there's nothing like the grand holiday choir concert to shove me into the Christmas spirit. For the most part, it went remarkably well. I do wish Kyle weren't so horrible at singing. Could Mrs. Espel simply move him and put him at the opposite end of the tenor section, so I don't have to listen to his loud, flattened-voweled sirenvoice during every concert and performance? I loved it how he only sang when and what I sang. Oh, but he's SO awesome. Right.

I pity people who live in fantasy worlds--realms where they really ARE good at something. I'm glad I'm pessimistic enough to realize I'm not good at most things, and when I do get some sort of recognition or award, it was merely a fluke, or politics. It makes me more humble that way.

So, the parents found out about IMEA. I regret not telling them from the start. I'm worried that they feel betrayed--like I cannot tell them anything. While this is the case when it comes to my homosexual matters, I do wish I would have shared that one bit of good news with them.

Still no recording studio.

Theo and I are meeting tomorrow, and I have homecourt (dis) advantage. I do truly hate being in charge of matters insecure to myself. Should I ask about Tuesday's post? No. Too creepy.

The library performance today was...interesting. The acoustics were surprisingly good. Kyle and Frank = horrible. Jamie and Keeley = wonderful. Carla = errily disconnected and robotic and awkward. Me = frustrated.

Still haven't told my parents about IMEA. Oops.

I'm officially sick. The whole bit--fever, cough, sore throat, and the like. What did I do to deserve this. How can there be a God if people are made to feel this wretched. (Sorry, a moment of melodrama there. Won't slip out again.)

Will certainly me making appointment with dermatologist shortly hereafter--********* problem growing out of hand. Durr.

Must also call studio and finish remaining college applications, even though I have no intentions on attending any of them.

"i felt it when i kissed him. it was that feeling that some describe as a spark. The energy is similar to that. Good news, I suppose. He also kisses in more my style. No Scott here.... my polite, reserved alter-ego."

Mind: What the fuck. He can't possibly be describing me. I find it appalling that he's kissing other boys. Why else would he have posted it on Tuesday instead of Monday? Or put it in his review of the evening? What was I thinking...of couse, every gay male in existence is a wretched whore. I should have known he wouldn't have been any different.

Heart: Wow.

After a fierce battle of wits and stamina between the aforementioned printer and myself, I conquered o'er said printer and am now free of my ritualistic trips to Kinko's to print up rudimentary essays. Horrah.

The soap worked well--not too astringent, and yet pleasantly effective.

I still haven't told my parents about All-State Honors accomplishment. Perhaps I just don't want the inevetable attention from them? It will only send my mother into hysterics and my father into a rollicking state of camaraderie. I'd rather them just be curt and dismissive with me.

What a contradictory day! I am sicker than a dog, and I had a horrible time at the madrigal performance at Target...shudder. However, I found out that I not only made the All-State Choir, but the Honors choir for IMEA. Plus, we finally received our super-duper printer from dreaded UPS and I called in sick to work, meaning I have the entire night to do homework and sleep. Horrah.

The soap smells so wonderful. I am almost afraid to use it! I will, however, use it tomorrow.

I spoke to Greg for a brief moment, and he seems to be doing well. Lucky son of a bitch.

Wonderful. Just...wonderful. He bought me soap. I don't know why I'm preoccupied with the romantic notion of it all...but I am. I do need to start loving from my heart instead of my mind--it feels so much more comfortable this way.

My trip to the homosexual sea may be postponed--Theo and I are, in fact, meeting up this evening. I still wonder, but I suppose I should let my heart take over the steering...my mind has been at the task too often. Maybe he does really see as much between us as I see. An evening report will ensue.

I need to find out about State choir already. The suspense, and fact that my teacher already goddamn knows, is killing me.

I am always amused by the fact that Jill can look cute in only one aspect of her dress at a time. For example, she looked really beautiful from the knees up today...but then decided to wear white socks and tennis shoes as foot apparel to match a denim skirt and black top. How perplexing.

There is no occupation more romantic and exciting than working retail during the holidays. Only in retrospect can it be fully appreciated. Fast-paced, high-energy, stressful--these words aptly describemy tiresome/wonderful day at Gap. Plus, Erin came and paid me a visit, which made the day truly sublime.

I think my homosexuality has driven my sister and I apart. We used to get along much more often than now; her constant use of my queer status as warfare weaponry in a spat brings me to the conclusion that she is embarassed for having a faggot brother. Sorry, Liz--there's nothing I can do about that, is there?

Theo and I will not be seeing each other on Tuesday, as originally planned/anticipated. Survey says...Brian loses another one. Back to the murky, vile sea of seedy homosexual men to pull yet another fish from the abyss.

The Madrigal Dinner has come and gone. All is done/well. I determined I'm too picky, and have been spoiled by the greater productions I've been involved in. We weren't horrible. Just not GOOD.

I feel like I did something wrong in regards to the Theo situation, even though no logic supports my paranoia. Just...feelings. I like it when people respond to my E-mails.

I'm bound to be alone/unhappy/unsuccessful for the duration of my life. I'm also tired. These two statements corellate with each other.

Kinko's, my long-time friend and companion, hath betrayeth me. I have never put so much time into such a simple thing as a program for a Madrigal Dinner before. Thank you, Kinko's, for giving me an ulcer, withholding my sleeping priviledges, and being an overall Saigon Whore. Christ in a casket.