One final anecdote from Katsucon:
Friday night, Ericson and I are having dinner with the girls (Mike was off placing bets on some Soul Calibur Tournament, I think). We're at Chille's, and two of the girls got there before us so they're at the bar, where there are no more seats, so the rest of us - me, Ericson, Ina, Kira, and Dani - go grab a table.
We're talking, yada yada, and as we're leaving and saying goodbye, I decide to shake Kira and Dani's hand (that's what I do when I've just met someone).
So, I'm shaking Kira's hand, and as I do so she goes "Whoa. Do you moisturize?"
This question takes me completely off guard, and I stare at her awkwardly for a moment, before I finally decide that the best answer is the honest one. "As a matter of fact, yes." There is nothing I hate more than having scaly hands. "You could tell?"
"What do you mean, 'I could tell'?" she answers. "I haven't felt softer hands."
At this point, I don't know whether or not I should be proud or embarrassed, but I decide to let the vain metrosexual in me take over and lean towards proud.
And, for better or worse, that vain metrosexual is taking over more and more. Since winter break, I've gotten into the habit of usually running twice a day (every evening and the four mornings a week I don't have class) for thirty minutes a run. Perhaps due to boredom, I've been doing push-ups, crunches, and other things that don't require equipment, and I've lost twenty-five pounds in the month-and-a-half since winter break. (Unfortunately, a weekend of splurging at Katsucon has thrown me off quite a bit, but I hope to get back on track in the next day or two.) What used to be something I'd do every now and again has become an indispensable morning routine - every morning, I start off the day with a centrum, a B-Complex, vitamin E, two vitamin C's, and Chromium - and I've never felt healthier. I can breathe deeper, run longer, lift more and heal faster, and I don't think I've even reached my peak yet.
I've experimented with product, but I'm too tired in the morning to fidget with my hair every morning, though that might change once I have more again. I've even descended into fashion-designer-hood; last night, I was looking for the best fabric for this new coat I'm thinking of making (which will likely be crimson red - a far cry from my vintage goth tendencies) using Ling Ling's sewing machine.
I might have been close before, but now, for all intents and purposes I now truly am a gay man - except for the whole being attracted to men thing. I think it's safe to say that that won't change.
And the more I think about this, the more I like it. After all, I am a god, created in my own image.
Huh. I just came up with that right now, but I like it.
I am a God, created in my own image.
Aren't we all?