Dating. Again.

I know I haven’t written much lately. Part of that is just the normal exhaustion that comes with being overwhelmed at work and genuinely contemplating suicide to get out of the yet another no-win, pointlessly entitled argument with stupidity that is the Department of Defense. Yes. The other part is that I haven’t had much to say. When you let people tell you your role and you let yourself be defined by others, you stop being capable of figuring out things that you want. Who you are. I’ve been in that spot for a really, really long time and recently it all just kind of came to sit on my chest.

I started making some changes. Big changes. I finally acknowledged that I am SUPER gay and decided not to hide it anymore. Not be obnoxious, but not worry about offending people when they ask if I have a boyfriend or am seeing anyone. Acknowledge that I like girls and that I get to look at them as much as I want because no one cares and there is no ‘Spanish Inquisition’ that’s going to leap out when I least expect it and scream “PERVERT” at me in a condemning tone. No one cares. They might have ten years ago, but it’s just not important now.

I got another job. Well, it’s not official yet, but it’s unofficially a thing. I’m going to the Pentagon as a senior environmental advisor. It’s a promotion and a chance to do real environmental good.

I’m looking at restarting my PhD and thinking about what I actually want to be. Truthfully? I want to be a mad scientist. A brilliant biological inventor of great and amazing things that will fundamentally reshape the world we live in. I want to be Rick Sanchez with a soul. So I bought some kits and am redoing some basic science classes and learning to work hydroponic and gene editing systems and let’s do this. I don’t need anyone’s permission to be a brilliant experimenter. I mean, safety first…I’ll try not to kill myself or others (but that’s why I’m taking the basic classes again anyway), but there’s nothing stopping me from doing any of that. I just bought into the lie that I’m supposed to use leisure time for travel or buying shit or whatever. I’m going down a different path.

And finally, I’m letting go of some baggage I’ve been holding onto for a long, long time. I was in love with the same girl for over twenty years. I was waiting for her. Waiting for us. It was phenomenally stupid and self-deceptive. No excuse. But I have to stop. I am now dating a traumatized little metal pixie who encourages my mad scientist, dominating, anarchist tendencies and has no problem being gay or telling me when I’m being an asshole. I think this is a good step. I think I might even love her, even though we haven’t been going out long enough. If love is a behavior, not a feeling, I want to behave all over this one. I want to be in love and I want to have a supportive partner who can actually see me. The real me. Maybe she can, who knows? But I’m tired of living in the same box year after year, wondering why everything seems pointless and fucked up. The answer is: because everything is pointless and fucked up. We have to make our own meaning. Just getting the right job or getting the right stuff isn’t living and it’s really hurting me. I have to try something different.

So. I’m going to go see about a girl. And some fungal cultures. And maybe see if I can’t make something incredible with them both.