Class today sucked.

Well, my first class was good (the literary magazine). I got to go through a bunch of submissions, which is fun. Joanne submitted a poem, so I showed off her poem to a couple of people, who liked it. But my Keats class was horrifying. He kept us for an extra half an hour. That's three and a half hours without a break of any kind.

And I could only think about you-know-what for so long before I was overcome by Numbness of the Ass and Anesthesia of the Brain.

By the end of the class, I was feeling murderous. I was hungry and I had to pee. And I was so sick of this guy's irritating voice, and his purposeless convoluted sentences, that I wanted to shove my fingers in my ears and scream, "DEAR GOD! MAKE THE BAD MAN STOP!"

It was that kind of class.

It's incredible how the laws of inertia work. I have all this free time now, and zero momentum. I had a four day weekend. Did I do any of my homework? No. Did I finish unpacking? Not quite. Did I vacuum? Not so much.

The solution to this is obviously this: get a job. If I had a job, I'd have some money (a v.g. thing) and something to do with my time. Some excuse other than my extremely loud pet Vampire to get up in the morning. But did I look for a job over the weekend?

Of course not.

So. I've gotten quite a bit of mail regarding the whole "relationship with a woman" sort of thing. I've obviously failed to explain myself fully, so let me clear up a couple of misconceptions.

Misconception 1: Monique thinks that dating women is easier than dating men. I never said this, but my mailbox is still full of mail on this topic. "Hey, you know that women can be just as much of a pain as men," says the mail. Well, of course. The vast majority of my friends are men for just this reason. I tend to like men better. They're simpler and more straightforward. Okay, sure, this is a generalization, but it proves my point. If anything, I'm inclined to think that dating men is easier. Just so you know.

Misconception 2: Monique is going to break some poor girl's heart by leading her on and going back to men because this is just a phase or something. Okay, nobody actually said this. I extrapolated. But look. Here's the situation. I am an honest person, and I don't plan to lead anyone on. I know that I am definitely attracted to women as well as men. I expect that when I finally do have sex with a woman, I will enjoy it. I am not ruling out the possibility of a long term relationship with the right woman.

But I don't know this for sure. I mean, I've never actually had lunch at the Y. I feel strange saying, "Yes, I'm bisexual" for that reason. What if it's not my thing after all, and I give bisexuality a bad name? One of my correspondents said something similar as a joke, but what if it happens?

Hmm. Now that I think about it, that's kind of silly. It's silly to think that my own quest for personal truth will taint the entire bisexual community. It's silly to be afraid of throwing open the door of sexuality. There are too many closets in the world as it is. Okay. What the hell. I'm bisexual. If life was Buffy the Vampire Slayer, I'd be Willow. And I suppose Matt would be Oz. Especially with the whole leaving thing.

And as for Tara...

Finally, if you were wondering where my journal went, you obviously aren't on the notify list. Which is kind of silly of you, considering that there's a whole lot of juicy stuff going on there. Which is probably why this entry is so short.

Just so you know.

If it came up in conversation, people would invariably ask, "How old is she?" When I’d say 81, they would look at me and say, "Oh." What that really meant was, "Get over it. She’s old. It’s time to die when you’re 81." But if they knew my grandmother, they would never say that.