This has been one of the most bizarre weekends of my life... If you've been following this journal for awhile, you know I've had some weird experiences before, and often in rapid succession, but I'll be damned; this one probably takes the cake...
I begin sort of in the middle of the time of which I speak:
I'm walking through a parking lot with Douglass and Dracor. Douglass and I are accompanying Dracor to one of his beloved SCA events. I'll get to the SCA stuff shortly, but suffice to say that the three of us were decked out like FREAKS. Dracor was wearing chain-mail, some leather cuff-things I can't remember the names of, an enormous cotton shirt, and a pair of tights. Douglass was wearing what appeared to be a mediaeval Jedi suit. Your humble narrator Helena was wearing a long red dress left over from her days as a closeted goth. But, like I said, I'll explain the SCA later... Anyway, the three of us fucking weirdos are walking through a parking lot when both Dracor and Douglass endeavor to read bumper stickers aloud. Simultaneously, spontaneously, with NO forewarning, the two boys both read aloud: "YOU NON-CONFORMISTS ARE ALL ALIKE!" It was SO appropriate. It was just a moment of absolute beauty... It was also REALLY fucken weird.
Yeah. So most of the weekend so far has been like that. Just weird. Weird, weird, weird.
I'll begin with Friday night. I've been hanging out with a young man named Jacob for a few evenings now. He's a little quiet, but he reminds me very much of the geeky-yet-popular kids in high school whom I always wanted to hang out with: the really, really awesome kids who, for some reason, never paid much attention to me. I think Jacob is adorable. And on Friday night, Jacob and I decided to take a walk.
An hour and a half after coming to this decision, we found ourselves lost in the forest by Evergreen's organic farm. So, we decided to make the most of it and wander around in the dark for awhile. I'm telling you, there's little else in the world as sweet as wandering around in Washington on a near-pitch-black night, discussing Kurt Cobain and the particular smells of organic farms, with an adorable new friend.
Alright, flash forward... After getting stuck in some bushes that sort of felt like holly trees, the two of us finally found our way out of the woods, back to civilization... And I invite Jacob up to my room, where we talk about religious excommunication over mango tea. He awkwardly hugs me goodnight, and I hug him back, and there's this brief, painful instant of eye-contact, in which both of us was momentarily evaluating the sex appeal of the other, and then not having any idea what to do about it... It's been a VERY long time since I've experienced a look like that. I've become accustomed to leers, really. In Binghamton, strangers, new friends, and casual acquaintances never took much notice of me, unless they happened to be dirty old men, and of course, dirty old men leer. This little moment with Jacob was just... so beautiful. It's been SO long since I've actually been really physically attracted to somebody and NOT known how to go about doing anything about it.
Evergreen's boys are a breed unto themselves to begin with. I am not used to receiving this sort of respect from males, other than Norman. [Norman learned pretty quickly (within a week or so) not to handle me TOO delicately, or I'd swear at him.] These boys are a little shy, and they quit cursing if a cute female walks into the room, and they'll help you carry shit, and... yeah. They're SWEET. They're all really, really sweet. Never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined a whole community in which persons of the male species would miss a bus or a class just to walk me to the post office, just for the hell of it, just to be nice and to chat, not because they expected to get laid. There's just this sweetness, this innocence, this awe, this sacredness. I love it. I love this place so much. And I loved that moment last night when I felt that moment of awkward tension with Jacob... I loved that moment BECAUSE it was awkward. Because neither one of us made a move to really touch the other. Because I think the two of us find each other reasonably attractive, yet we didn't just... well, fuck. I swear, for just a few minutes, I wanted nothing more in the world than to just play with Jacob's poofy black hair and see what might happen. But it just didn't happen, and we said goodbye, and then stood there sort of staring at each other, and then we parted ways, and... wow. I really forgot what that was like. It's amazing, it really is.
Back in my room, feeling younger, yet more pleased, than I've felt in ages, I decided to make some tea and go to bed. But as I stepped into the lounge to use the microwave, I found Dracor and Douglass. The three of us talked for a bit, Douglass joking with us from his place at the table, and Dracor and I comfortably cuddled up on the couch. Dracor is a champion cuddler. A freak, yes, that too, but a champion cuddler. I think I've received more hugs from Dracor in my two months here than I've received, total, in my entire life. And in my two months here, Dracor has become a friend-for-life. Make no mistake about it: Dracor's a total freak, and something of a space-case at times, but from my very first night here, when we met, there's been a fierce loyalty between us. You fuck with Dracor, you're fucking with Helena, too; and vice versa. So, what the hell; we spent awhile cuddling on the couch in the lounge. And why not, after all? Cuddling with friends is so, so under-rated. And gahd knows, I've missed it.
I told Dracor and Douglass about Jacob. I lacked an adequate description of the evening, as I was fairly tired, but the boys listened. Douglass made some sort of geeky sarcastic remark, which caused me to shout, grinning, "shut the fucking motherfuck up, you fucker!" and Dracor said something to the effect of "Aw, that's so SWEET!" I'm telling you, I really, really love these guys.
Douglass went to bed. Dracor followed me back to my room. And it didn't seem too inappropriate for him to stay the night. He's a really good friend, and a really good cuddler, so what the hell, you know? Of course, by dawn's early light, when you're still 90% asleep and you feel a nice warm human body next to you, things other than cuddling begin occurring in one's mind. Things such as, for example, excessive cuddling. And maybe an hour before your alarm clock is set to ring, and you've been excessively cuddling for a little while, it's really about damned time for somebody to say, "okay, um, do you have any condoms? Because we really ought to fuck right now." Dracor, following cue, asked if I had any condoms. I followed up with: "Yup. We REALLY ought to fuck right now."
Yeah, it's been a weird, weird weekend.
I'm a really firm believer in sex between friends. I love the idea of uncommitted-yet-affectionate fucking. Doesn't have to be anything romantic, doesn't have to indicate that you're going to be "together," or whatever. But it doesn't have to be sleazy, and merely for the sake of getting off. Despite my feelings on the subject, and despite the fact that I've had a fair number of partners for my short life so far, I have never really had what's commonly known as a "fuck-buddy." But Dracor -- my friend, my pal, my pet freak -- became, on Saturday morning, my very first fuck-buddy.
...So, how exactly do you explain a fuck-buddy? One is sitting in one's room late one night, having those "That's-like-me-I..." conversations with one's room-mate, and one says: "Oh, and by the way, Louise, I fucked Dracor even though we're just real good pals..."? Luckily, that conversation wasn't necessary. UNluckily, it wasn't necessary because Louise burst into the room at kind of a crucial moment...
"Oh, hi guys... Um... Whoa, I'm sorry."
Now here's where stuff starts getting weird. (As if it wasn't weird enough already that I'd gotten lost in the woods with a cute boy the night before, and was in the process of having sex with my friend....) Louise backs out the door, and then, after a pause of approximately five seconds, KNOCKS. Had the situation been reversed, I probably would have wandered around the hall for awhile, trying to figure out what, exactly, was going on... Louise knocked. And Dracor, the freak, yelled, "come in!" It wasn't as if there was ANYTHING left for her to see; she'd seen everything in all its glory, so it HARDLY mattered if she walked back in...
Now, Louise is pretty easy-going. Louise started talking to us while she stood on her side of the room getting ready for her day. Louise, as a matter of fact, asked about Jacob. Do you have ANY idea how weird it is to be in bed with a naked guy and find yourself talking about another guy, whom you perhaps wouldn't mind GETTING naked with? Yet, Dracor did not appear to be upset; as a matter of fact, Dracor appeared to be nothing so much as blissed out. Weird.
So, Louise left, Dracor and I parted ways, met up again at breakfast (this time with Douglass in tow), and then set off for the SCA event...
The SCA, or the Society for Creative Anachronism, is basically a bunch of freaks dressing up, owning a lot of neat shit, and giggling a lot. Or, more simply put, the SCA is a bunch of freaks. Imagine yourself stepping out of a car in western Washington, in 2002. Imagine you're in the company of two boys dressed like a middle ages merchant and a middle ages warrior. Imagine that you walk across the street and find a bunch of big burly guys dressed up in armor, smacking each other about the head and limbs with fake swords. Imagine you go inside and folks bow to you when they meet you. Imagine... well, okay... Imagine an entire day in which you feel very much as though you've stepped into a combination of Monty Python and the Holy Grail, and a Binghamtonian Saint Patrick's Day minus the vomiting.
Yeah.
["You song-singing, beer-drinking, Blarney-stone-kissing FRUITCAKES!" --Louise, to Dracor several weeks ago, on attending a party filled with SCA freaks...]
[The chorus of what may or may not be the SCA theme song: "Balls to your partner, ass against the wall; if ye cannot get laid in the SCA, ye cannot get laid at all..." Just, you know, FYI. It might be mentioned that Douglass, who looked a little queasy at the idea of participating in freakish activities with people wearing forty pounds of mediaeval ruffles, did not get laid. But he did dance with a cute girl, and got introduced to another cute girl. It's a step in the right direction. Won't be long now... It might also be mentioned that Helena, your humble narrator, got laid BEFORE the SCA event -- who KNOWS what the hell THAT'S all about... Cripes...]
And so, a good and merry time was had by all..... Particularly when four or five random SCA members threw off their shirts, knelt before some Random Royal People, received tulips between their respective teeth, and then dashed off gallantly to the kitchen to wash the after-dinner dishes. Particularly when songs were sung, stories were told, and some freaking AWESOME food was consumed. Dracor sung a song that goes:
It's all for me grog, me jolly jolly grog,
All for me beer and tobacco.
Well I spent all me tin on the lassies drinkin' gin,
Far across the western ocean I must wander...
As I said earlier: imagine Monty Python and the Holy Grail. And imagine Saint Patrick's Day in a town with a large Irish community. Imagine Helena, both entirely freaked out, and entirely enjoying herself.
I'm safely in my room now, where I can contemplate the very weirdness of it all... Probably Douglass is in his room now too, playing video games and cackling: "Helena slept with Dracor." Probably Dracor is in his room at his parents' house, still blissed out from all of yesterday's debauchery. Probably Louise is avoiding this room for awhile, the poor girl. Probably... hm... Probably I should quit thinking about everything and go do my damned homework...
Love,
~Helena*