Left to my own devices

A bit of a firestorm has erupted over on Andrew Sullivan's The Dish blog in regards to who or what constitutes being bisexual, with some readers going as far as to postulate that bisexuals don't even exist. It's a fascinating exchange of input and ideas, and well worth a read if you have the time. I confess to having always been a tad curious (bi-curious?) about the parameters of bisexuality, and readily admit to not having formed a clear notion of it yet.

In a few years, I'll be 40. The preceding sentence was typed with no excitement. Perhaps some slight gratitude of living into another decade. But certainly no anticipation of the age. I was thinking about this t'other day, and how much the sensation of growing older now differs from how it used to feel then . As a kid, getting older was a crusade. It started with an idolization of the teenage years, and reached its zenith in pining to become a full-fledged, college-aged adult, doing all the things I saw teens and early-twenty-somethings doing in 1980s' movies. Of course, those years came soon enough, and then ended almost just as quickly as they'd begun (or at least that's how it seems in hindsight). Overall, being a teenager and college-aged person were all right. Not ideal, but then how many of us get to enjoy the idealized version of life? I went to classes, got to drive a car, had sex for the first time, went to nightclubs, had my first beer, etc. ...

This week we have something a little different -- a woman! That's right. Just so it can't be said this an exclusive club, we'll include a beautiful dame from time to time. This week, it's British actress Sonya Walger, who celebrates her 39th birthday today! Enjoy.

Did I tell you about the time I was scared for my life by a couple of (probably) drunk guys who took my treasure chest? It was the summer of 1989, the first summer of my teenage years, and the first full summer I'd spent living in north Champaign. Mom and dad had divorced in the autumn of 1988, and mom and I had moved from the central/west part of town, to the north end, in order to save money. It was disrupting to a then-12-year-old, who'd spent his entire life in just one part of town. When you're young, and have less mobility, your world is particularly small. What is a short drive nowadays was like the other side of the world back then. Thankfully, a couple of friends from the old neighborhood made the bike ride over to where I lived (and vice-versa), so the separation from familiar surroundings was filled with a little less anxiety. So, with the summer of '89 in full-swing, plenty of time on our hands to think of things to do, I decided to create a t...