Why don't we ever see "gay but curious" in a personals ad?

The last few days have been strange, even by my standards. Which might be saying something.

I'm on the hundred-year plan to finish an undergraduate degree. I have finally begun to take classes again, and this semester I have two senior-level math classes, which started last week.

The first night in the first class, a very attractive woman sat in the desk beside mine. I mean, super-model-hot-girl attractive. Let's call her SMHG. I just made a mental note of her presence; I like guys, right? A young Brad-Pitt-cute-guy (BPCG) sat behind. Noticing him there: that didn't really surprise me too much. The second night of class (it's two nights a week), BPCG sat beside me and SMHG sat behind him. Guess who caused me the greater discomfiture? I'm amazed to report it was SMHG. What's that all about? I have no specifically erotic feelings that I can identify toward her. But I've lived my entire adult life convinced that such feelings weren't even a possibility, so would I even know what those were?

And guess what I overheard before class started that night: SMHG already has a master's degree in economics and is back to get a master's in mathematics. So not only is she gorgeous (we're in St. Louis, it's pronouced gahr-jus), she's a brainiac too. Yikes! Maybe I'm in love.

Getting Through the Workday

First, I love my job. Well, OK, most of it. But I am prone to distraction ("Look, something shiny!"), so to maintain any kind of productivity, I try to minimize the possibility of distraction.

I have known for a long time that I'm hypersensitive to background noise. I've been asked over and over, "Can't you just 'tune it out'?" Honestly, no, I cannot. I seem unable to ignore the conversation 3 cubes away, or the candy being unwrapped next to me, or the sounds of the copiers and fax machines, or people typing. So pretty much any noise one might expect in an office setting.

One generally effective approach to muting the aural distraction is through music. So anytime I'm not on the phone, walking around, or entertaining guests at my desk, I'm listening to an ancient Sony CAR Discman (really, it's 13 or 14 years old). The musical range is pretty wide, spanning from Léonin to Linkin Park, though there is a preponderance of piano from Bach to Bartók.

This morning's selection is Evegeny Kissin playing Scriabin, Medtner, and Stravinsky. I found his recording of pieces by Brahms and Schuman cold and sterile, and I questioned whether he'd gone down the path of technical brillance at the cost of beautiful music. However, I am amazed again with Kissin: the Scriabin Sonata No. 3 and the Stravinsky Pétrouchka are both are just explosive without ever losing control, which is exactly what the composers intended.

I've also been enjoying Boris Berezovsky's Chopin, Godowsky: Études. His live performance of the Chopin Études lacks a certain final polish found in, say, Murray Perahia's studio recording of the same works, but they're still very impressive. And the Godowsky, as many others have noted, is just over the top. I particularly enjoyed the Godowsky version of the "Revolutionary" (Chopin Op. 10 No. 12) rearranged for the LEFT HAND ALONE. Even though I've listened to it many times, it still raises the short hairs on the back of my neck. And come on, these pieces are meant to be show-offs: Godowsky was not trying to improve Chopin, that was never his goal, he was really trying to out-Liszt all the pupils of Liszt who were then running around showing off and diverting attention from him. I think he succeeded admirably.

The Unfortunate Stranger In The House

So I have a "life partner" or "significant other" or ... whatever the preferred term is now. We'll call him L, though that letter may or may not be in any way connected to his name. We have been together for over five years. He is a nice enough guy.

But he is content with the world as it is. He sees no intrinsic value in intellectual pursuits. I thought when we met that I could reconcile myself to a wholly middle-class life: enough money to pay the bills comfortably, enough skill to keep our current jobs with moderate periodic raises, enough interest to show up at work each day.

After all, what more should anyone properly want? Why should one strive for more when one has enough?

I have a pretty unusual background (in some respects). I grew up in rural Missouri and knew pretty early that I needed to get out as soon as possible. So I engineered a scenario where I quit high school half-way through my junior year to start full-time at the university. The original plan was to enter the university one-and-a-half years early, plow through undergraduate and graduate school, and have a PhD by 25. Obviously that didn't quite work out, but it is illustrative: I had pretty lofty ambitions.

During my second semester, I met a boy and suddenly nothing else really mattered. I was so foolishly distracted that I quit going to but never formally withdrew from classes. I was able to get one class excused and anther removed altogether, but I carried two "F" grades for quite a while. After we had lived together for a couple of years, I retured to night classes, year-round, for several years.

But then a steady descent into decadent misbehavior, triggered by general discontent and a job loss, ended that period of relative calm, and with it, the ability to successfully attend class. When I realized that he and I were no longer boys and that we were no longer suitable for each other, I ended the relationship and pulled myself back together. That process took a few years, but I landed in a work situation that permitted a return to DAY classes, full time. Now I was getting somewhere!

During the second semester back, things at work fell apart. I ended up dropping one class and taking an incomplete in another, with the best intentions to complete coursework and get a decent grade (this was a spring semester). Work continued to be demanding enough that I did not return for classes in the summer or fall--discretionary income seemed more important than going to school, and I was well-rewarded for my work.

I celebrated my 31st birthday (early October) by taking the first weekend off I'd had in years and going to Chicago. The trip was a total disappointment. (Though I did learn that one can drive from one's hotel in Chicago to one's home in St. Louis city in 4 hours, 15 minutes, when the motivation is strong. I had symphony tickets for a program I didn't want to miss.) Late Sunday evening, after the symphony program and dinner with a friend, I was feeling a little...lonely. So I hopped onto a very popular online meeting place, with a directed outcome in mind. When I was just about to give up, someone IMd me. He didn't seem to have quite the same immediate goal, despite my most persuasive efforts. But he seemed very nice, so I agreed to meet for a dinner date the next Tuesday. That was "L".

He was very nice. Slim, cute face, thinning hair, beautiful eyes. Bright enough, decent conversationalist, funny in a slightly edgy way. We had some common professional interests. It seemed worth a closer look, so we continued to see each other. Within a month or so we were spending a few nights a week together.

I was not without some clue that things might not be perfect. I still poignantly remember a conversation we had not long after we met. I stated that my goal was to finish my undergraduate degree and that I'd go to school full time at night if I thought I could succeed (that would be four nights of class approximately 5:30 pm to approximately 8:30 pm). He immediately and vehemently responded that he would not like that at all because it wouldn't be any fun for him, dating someone who was never available in the evening. I was flabbergasted and stopped talking. I still don't think he understands the impact that had on me.

I also remember a Sunday that he wanted to shop all day long. I didn't feel particularly social, had had a long, late night at work Saturday night, and would have been content to lay on the couch and relax all day. But we ran and ran, from place to place, looking and looking, seemingly without a goal or an end in sight. When it was obvious that I couldn't take it anymore, he did notice. But this time, he was heart-breakingly sweet and apologetic. So sometimes he did seem capable of "getting it", and when he did, he seemed genuinely sorry. It was really deeply touching.

I cannot identify a specific point in time when things changed. I'm not so sure that there was a specific point. Rather, I think it was more a process, and the change from any one point in time to the next was nearly indiscernable. But sometime in the past two years, we've completely lost track of any mutual goals. I've always struggled to identify mutual interests. And now we don't even seem to have anything beyond the most basic mutual respect. I'm as unhappy as I've been at any point I can remember. And while the appropriate course of action seems pretty clear (separate), most things are substantially easier said than done.