misterioso

The night before last I dreamt that I told my lover in public that they were bad in bed. I felt slightly guilty afterwards for publicly humiliating them, but it was the truth and I was also relieved to finally get it out. In my dream, the lover was overly confident in their skills, which was annoying to me and I was personally suffering from their mediocrity. I'm not sure who was potraying this mysterious lover.

Last night involved me trying to hangout with angeltrouble, but it kept getting interrupted by other people tagging along. The first time was Damon and nineinchlovely who showed up unannounced at her pad without even knowing her -- they just knew I would be there. The second time, Damon had separate plans to hang out with her and he invited me to join along. For some reason I was furious at this bizarre courtesy -- I was like "I'M the one who introduced YOU. Don't tell ME when I can hang out with her." It was a little bizarre. But not as strange as the ending.

On my way to angeltrouble's abode, I was walking through south Evanston, late at night. I had just gotten off work. I passed by the storefront office of Miss Cleo. Except Miss Cleo looked like Miss Jones (the hyped singer/rapper in the mid-90s who never quite followed through on that potential). She was closing the doors, but I followed her in and asked if I could have a reading. It was 11:50 pm, and she was supposed to close at midnight and she had a client she was about to see. I was hoping she would say, okay I'll do you next, but instead she sort of looked at her watch, looked slightlty despondent, then just said, "no, I'm closing after this clint, so why don't you come tomorrow? I'll schedule you an appointment." She started to close the door and I asked if she needed my name, and she said, "oh, it's _____, right?" I started to say yes, but then said NO because I realized she had just called me by my birth name. I said, "uh, no, it's raymond" and she sorts of shook me off like "oh, yes, yes, that's right, that's what I meant, good night" and shut the door.

I left the store stunned and angry that she called me that name. But then I started to get scared about having her do a reading of me, because she obviously had some sort of insight -- who would pick that name out of the blue for me if they just met me on the street? No one, I tell ya.

[/dream recollections]

So for a few weeks, I've been feeling pretty low libido and anti-sex and anti-touch, but I've seemed to have some sort of turn around in the past few days, where now I'm on the prowl. Of course, keep in mind, when I talk about these change in mindsets, it's not necessarily indictative by my behavior, even to close friends or partners. But I sense a difference in me. I'm sort of craving in-person flirtation and playfulness, not so much just an increase sex drive, though I suppose that's up as well. Perhaps that's why some of my dreams have been about sex as a concept (versus just having sex in the dream) and even about jealousy. And perhaps that's why I changed Miss Cleo into Miss Jones. I mean, I'm not trying to hate Miss Cleo, but she doesn't exactly bring to mind lustful thoughts. Whereas even the name Miss Jones brings to mind The Dramatics, Billy Paul (okay, MRS. Jones), 'Have You Met Miss Jones?', and of course The Devil in Miss Jones.

Though in reality, I think what I'm more of jonesing for (ha! I couldn't resist!) is some sort of fag encounter. I need some nice anonymous geek boy who might blush when I talk to him about some of my ideas...

I'd like to welcome you to the 750th entry of Raybear.

And what a long strange trip it's been. And in honor of the occasion, I'd like to share my very first LJ entry:

"so i've been trying to journal for a long time, especially now that i've started my transition as an FTM, but i don't have the patience to use a real pen anymore -- very tragic. i also need instant gratification paired with public exposure of my innermost dark secrets. obviously, livejournal was the way to go."

My journal sort of started as a correspondence to an imaginary friend. Particularly since when I started NO one was reading at all and none of my "real-life" friends knew of it. I also wrote very sporadically, and mostly tended to post long e-mails I was sending to friends, so I didn't have to double-type the goings-on of my life. Coincidentally enough, my journal entry frequency starts to pick up around the time I meet MelRo -- I guess she gave me stuff to talk about.

Strange, but my beginning entries are not terribly insightful or particularly intimate. I think I've shared the most in the period about a year ago -- late winter/early spring, and then again in the summer. I shared a LOT last summer -- it was the depository for all of the super intense feelings I was going through with the separation, ethical slut issues, as well as moving stuff. Plus, my general everyday anxiety and goofballness.

I'm still not sure what I want this journal to be. Complete and total honesty becomes increasingly more difficult with the numerous overlaps in my life, but I also enjoy the purpose it serves in keeping connected with friends, particularly those in other cities. I guess in the end if it provides some sort of record of me during a certain time, that's enough. No matter what form it takes, a journal will always be incomplete.