going through a sort of transition, i think.

grown up realization that there are no real such things as types and inherent romantic codes that actually say record collections have to match up in order to create attraction. there you go, rob fleming.

i remember a couple years back when i was head over heels for this one boy, who i've only now come to realize had no interest in me. i remember holding on to the thought that things were complicated, rather than facing the reality of rejection. there was a lot of extenuating circumstances surrounding that. illness, on both he and i. we weren't right, but i really thought that i had found my "type" in him. awkward, and grunge-y, and progressive rock-y, hilarious, sarcastic, (because of the aforementioned awkwardness), and he had nice arms, okay.

the last guy i fell for was unattractive and a music encyclopedia. whatever the case, i keep to my "type" i guess.

and i guess the characteristic i "forgot" with that last couple of "types" (look at me dancing the vague dance) is that... some of them have been kinda jerks. and for the ones who were less jerks - they were still emotionally stunted (which is SUCH FUN for a puking emotional bird like me). and like most guys in the world actually, from the lower class cooks at my job, to the bros among bros of friends i have now - most of them like to include me in pussy and titty conversations, and because i'm vulgar and hilarious, a lot of the times, i don't mind. but now please refer yourself to Kaylee a la Firefly, because among that bro-ness, a lot of the times, i just want them to tell me i'm pretty. and sometimes they do, but i always make a gross face after.

anyway, combine my bro-ness, with my attraction to emotional stuntedness and you get a true lack of romance, or uh, whatever "sweet" is. i mean i've had those moments, (as much as someone who's never been in a serious relationship can have), but those very rare moments were always the things i banked all my guts on. and that has always evolved into a tragic trajectory. from the racism, to the bipolarity, to that secret girlfriend.

it's funny how your life can suddenly seem far more interesting, when you start to dissect it out on a blog.