Why Tuesday was a Good Day

Why Tuesday was a Good Day

1) I had my second interview with the New Jersey attorney general’s office. This interview was with the Director. I had an internship with a federal judge a few summers ago, and here’s some cool news: it turns out that the Director used to be his law clerk. Score! The interview went really well, too. And apparently, if you make it to the second interview, you’ve been hired.

2) It turns out that if I get hired and accept a position, I don’t have to remain a New Jersey resident! The Director told me so, and if anyone would know these things I suppose it would be him. Apparently the person who interviewed me last time was wrong. They do want you to be a resident at the time they hire you, because apparently when the personnel office does background checks for people who live out of state, they send out the file and it never comes back. Also, although he doesn’t make guarantees as to whether a person will wind up in Trenton or Newark, he said that he tries to take into account where a person lives. (And I live much, much closer to Newark and am on record as strongly preferring to work in that office.) So we’ll see.

Meanwhile, I’ve also got the Blogstalker whoring hawking my resumé, so who knows what other opportunities will arise?

3) Between the one-hour train ride down to Trenton, and the one-hour train ride back, I managed to finish The Fellowship of the Ring. (I’ve now read it three and a half times.) Therefore, I’ve begun part two, The Two Towers. Goodbye blue cover, hello green cover. (What was I saying a couple of weeks ago about hoping I wouldn’t get sucked back into Middle-Earth?)

4) At night I went to Twentysomething. Each time I go, I seem to know at least one or two more people than the previous time, which makes it easier to talk to other people. And I walked in there feeling like I looked good. On top of that, we were talking about New York’s Gay Pride Week and this Sunday’s gay pride march. Twentysomething is marching behind its own banner (last year they had 100 people in the group). Before the meeting, I wasn’t going to do it. But after the meeting, I decided I will. It will be the first gay pride parade I’ve ever attended, let alone march in.

When I was at the meeting, I felt something I hadn’t felt since the first time I’d been there, back in September. Perhaps it was because of the warm weather, but I suddenly realized, holy crap, I’m in a room filled with all these guys in their twenties, all of whom like other guys. A room full of sausages who like other sausages. I felt proud, and erotic, and excited, and cool, and grateful, and happy.

New York. Summer. Gay. Men. Heat. Short-sleeves. Tank tops. Calves. Sunglasses. Sand. Asphalt. Drinking beer outdoors on humid nights. Foreheads shiny with sweat. Catching a glance. Looking away. Looking back. Smiling shyly. Locking eyes.

Will it happen? In my dreams it already has.