Sunday, Jun. 23, 2019 - 11:07 am.
Update on my crush: I've spent the whole week highly aware of her presence at her desk, which is positioned at my 10 o'clock. Or maybe my 9:30 o'clock. I don't know, it's a weird angle. There are also four desktops and a corridor between her and me.
Anyway! When I say aware, I mean that. I'm not looking at her. Her desk is near the door and when I walk in and out of the office (an open space) I check that she's there or not. If not: meh. If yes: ok, whatever, she's cute, but it's not like she's paying attention to me the way I do to her, or maybe she is? nah, but it'd be nice.
It'll pass, this crush. It'll pass once my ego gets too swollen by her lack of interest in my existence. I can feel this happening soon.
On Friday at lunch, however, I did get a chance to sit next to her at the table in the office kitchen. She and another PhD student, a guy, were discussing whether a woman she met at a conference was hitting on her. My crush said she noticed this woman while she was presenting and thought she was beautiful; then the woman looked her up and down when she (my crush) was presenting. Then there was this post-conference party and something happened which I didn't catch. Then my crush added the woman to LinkedIn (oh, darling, no) and the woman sent her a message: "hey you" and a wink.
My crush was downplaying the whole thing, but of course she can read the signs, can't she? But I'm not knocking these ladies' hustle, whatever it is, and this is none of my business. What I'm getting at is that during the conversation between my crush and the other PhD student, they brought up that this woman was like 40 years old, and so I felt personally attacked by Life. Look, Life, I can't help that I like her!
Then I felt quite pleased with myself because at least I don't talk to my crush. I pretend that I ignore her, and I think I do it beautifully. Beat that, 40-year-old woman who sends winky faces to a 23-year-old colleague over LinkedIn. Ok, sure, I've thought of ways in which we could meet outside the office, but it's just a fantasy half-assed plan. Get off of me, Life.
She's going to Glastonbury, a name that always reminds me of David Bowie and my friend Anna. My crush was talking about drinking in the coach to arrive drunk, which sounds cool, but. It. Is. Not. Oh, darling, no. Right there and then I wanted to take her hand and pull her into me and protect her, which just shows how complicated it is to have a crush on someone much younger, and a heavier drinker than you.
The end. For now.
Right, some months ago, perhaps last year, I kept crying and complaining about how my writing was going nowhere. It's still not getting anywhere, but it might be on its way:
- I have not one, not two, but THREE scientific papers in review to be published in journals. The three of them altogether make up a nice narrative about media and prejudice towards sexual and gender minorities. I'm not even saying "I can't wait for them to be published", though, because I DO have to wait. Who knows for how long. This process of scientific publishing takes an awful lot of time. These three papers might be rejected in their current state, but it feels good having a product submitted, which I did not have six months ago.
- The writer/editor who helped me get my second book published is reading my manuscript! He asked me on Twitter, on a thread I made about fiction, when will the world see a new book from me? (it made me feel so important). I said, as soon as I find it a home. Then he sent me a DM and asked to read what I've written! He in no way implied that he could help me get it published. I kind of doubt he can. But I need readers and feedback, I need to bring attention to my story. He knows the editorial world, being a published author himself, and all I've asked of him is that he lets me know if he has any recommendations of publishing houses open to submissions.
- I have a new column coming out (lol) this week on the online newspaper, the one that published my column in which I came out as bisexual. This one is not that personal, but it's still about the struggles of LGBTI communities. Speaking of, I did struggle with this text, it took me so long to get it done. I'm always thinking of what I'm not saying, or what I'm saying wrong, or that I'm bi on the privilege side so why should I even open my mouth (internalized biphobia much?), on top of not being sure what the point I truly wanted to make was. I suppose it works, though, because my editor read it and said she wanted to get it published this week (Pride week!), pending a few corrections.
- I was sent the authorization sheet that I have to sign to be published in an anthology of Central American women writers. I completely forgot I'd submitted some stories for that project. I will not sign it. It turns out now that all the authors in that anthology have to pay money out of their own pocket to get this book published, which (a) sucks, and (b) was not a term discussed when we were invited to this project. Moreover, I hate this "women writers anthology" shit. I'm already in one, a shitty, obscure, irrelevant ebook-version one at that. Fuck that segregation, if I'm good enough, let me play along the boys. And fucking pay me, for once.