The Sweetest Thing

So the plane landed about an hour ago and I remember thinking to myself, man I'm very pleased with my life. I had a great easter weekend with Chris, and aside from the ocassional moments where I felt a little too much like Doleres for my own comfort (look, he's just about several decades older then I am, and we were in the U.S... especially so when he suggested a road trip in the Summer after the summer school terms ends); and aside from that, I had a really fantastic time.

San Francisco is amazing, and Chris is just so sweet. He'd actually taken the time off to make a detour from Rio to his home state to come to San Fran to meet me because he thought it would be very useful for me to visit some of the art schools there in order to facilitate my college program decision process. And trust me, it is a very interesting way to tour a city, especially something as dynamically artsy as SF.

He's offered to pay for summer term and rent a cool apartment for me in North Beach (a place he had previously) if I wanted to spend the summer in the SF art institute. Now that place is cool beyond belief. A little too fluffy for an entire graduate program in my opinion, but very kitch art-community on the base of a hill kinda thing. He did have one condition though, I had to be sexually exclusive, even when he was to go travelling while I stayed there.

'It's more a health issue then anything. Maybe in Singapore it's not so much of a concern, I don't know how the gay-bi-sexual community meshes there, but this isn't a safe place to have sex in.'

'Oh yeah, sure no problem. I actually think I've passed my wild phrase. I got sick of sleeping with new people to be honest. Anyway, a couple of months isn't going to kill me, and I'm not to fond of spending my time with boys.'

'You've got to be careful with the girls too. They get around.'

'I see. But you can't expect me to be mutally exclusive if you do gurantor me and I do end up int he U.S for the next three years.'

'We'll see how this works out first. Being your gurantor is no problem, I'll love to help you out, but you'd have to prove to me why I should sponsor your next four years in school, if that's what you want me to do. You've got talent, and you really must get down to it. You can. You must decide first which state you want to study in, and what exactly you want. Art school is a whole lot of tuition money and you can't afford to fuck around.'

So I'm going to Colorado at the end of the March. Brilliant. I get to do some skiing, check out the industrial design program and Chris's apartament (he's got a totally whacko double storied loft... apparently he's this thing for restoring old buildings and warehouses. That's part of what he does).

That he's rather a-bit-too-old-for-me bothers me ocassionally. Not because it's weird, or because it's too much of a humbert-humbert for my comfort, but just because of the nature of age. I look at him and feel depressed sometimes. It reminds me how you can try to cheat time in a zillion ways, but something will come through, whether you like it or not. And of course it shouldn't bother me what other people think when they see us on the street, or when I wait at the store for him to come and sign the check, but it does. It's weird smiling at the girl across the counter, going, 'gimme a sec, my dad will be around in a moment.'

I suppose alot of the places we went to, especially the schools, kinda conferred the guardian with an asian girl from a thrid world country presumption upon us.

I need to go, will update more later!

xoxox