Stories Pt. I

So I'm on the phone with a friend and he tells me that he has something to confess to me. Pretending to not be alarmed, I secretly have this gut feeling that it's something about me or towards me and that I'm looking at this from all angles. He tells me that this whole time, his hair has been fake. That he wears a toupe and that he wanted to tell me asap. So for the longest time, I'm sitting here, jaw wide open trying not to laugh because that's pretty dang funny. Took me a while to figure out that he's a pretty good liar, actor, whatever and that he's just pulling my leg. Crazy, I'm trying to be less gullible as I usually am, but ::shakes fist in air:: I gave in. LOL

::deep sigh:: My trip to Dallas is coming to an end and I'm actually excited. If you've been keeping tabs to my previous notes, you would know that by now I should be curled up somewhere going insane about not being in school. I think that FIT has the longest break and should shorten it up a bit. It's too long. But maybe I'm just impatient, because I'm going through this phase where I want to be greedy and do all things dealing with fashion. Sitting in fine arts, I find myself thinking, "OH! I'm good with my graphic sense, maybe I should see what fashion illustration is like" and then that branches off to "well if I can do that, I want to design my dream gown: silk-chiffon with tulle and what not with a killer heel". We all know that if I'm going to have killer heels it makes me want to go to accessories because I've been to NoHo plenty of times to the one and only shoe store because it's any gay man's dream. Think about it, you can make any heel, any size and any fabric to make it. So I'm going a little insane with this 50 degree weather knowing that New York is in a deep freeze and I just want to be in that ice city going to school dreaming about whatever all in my fine arts class.

UGH.

Mmm, this reminds me of why I think I love fashion so much. Ohh this is rich, I have a story for you. Okay so growing up I tried to lead the "boyish" life that most only child-absent father tries to live. I had my old school nintendo and upgraded to a sega and even though my mom was anti-secular "anything" she bent backwards all in the name of boyhood. I even tried soccer and let me tell you, I never kicked a ball once. Soccer slowly, no, quickly to gymnastics and let me tell you, between learning piano and a little spanish, I was flipping and cartwheeling and being gay as any 6-7 year old can be. So, one day I was sitting in my room of our "enormous" two-story apartment in downtown Dallas (which I thought was big because I've always been little, so at age 6 - it was a castle) and I was trying to fix this old transmitter that was under my bed pretending that I heard E.T. say my name or that some lost pilot was S.O.S(ing) and that's when the damage hit. My mom's closet was open and there they were, here 4 1/2" heels were screaming my name and I was instantly hooked. So set aside that I was 6 and a gymnist, I'm now twirling around in my moms closet in a pair of heels. Next, I grabbed this skirt and tied it with a belt or shoelace or something at my chest and even tied there, it was a full-length gown on me. Remember, I've always been little. So after being caught twice, I learned that I this is what I should NOT be doing. I just started twirling in my closet. Wow, if no one in my family knew I was gay then..there were plenty of sign in the years to come. Helloo, the sharpied "naughty parts" on all my step-sisters ken dolls..but that's another story for another time..

So I guess all this storytime started with that confession over the phone over a toupe. :)

Wow, I am so gay.