I went somewhat begrudgingly, not unironically, to Turnabout, with no date (at least no nonSapphic one) and no drunken hookupfull afterparty planned. Why, I'm still not exactly sure. Some combination of cultural/social obligation, curiosity and homemade Chinese food, made by real Chinese people. (Taiwanese, whatever) And to end the barrage of "Do you ever straighten your hair? How often? How long does it take? What does it look like?", I straightened my hair and for a couple hours abandoned my frizzy heritage. It was quite well-received, with the obvious exception being the only other Jew who was available for comment.
There is something about a specific combination of sudden vanity after weeks of cosmetic neglect and really bad rap music that turns me into something that can only be described as not-Sophie, or dirty-ass ho, if you so prefer. Blame it on the integrated community, MTV, the Internet, Save the Last Dance, but I enjoy being somebody who my friends don't recognize for a few hours. This might prove problematic when I turn eighteen. Or even more so before then.
By the end of the night, my two best friends were dating each other.


I know, right?



I guess it had been kind of naive to expect a straight boy who spends most of his free time with the same few girls to remain neutral forever. Certainly to expect that my straight male friend would never hook up with one of my friends, given the parallels in our personalities, and the likelihood that we would get along well with each other's friends. But I was always really hoping this wouldn't happen. Given the circumstances (her moving to Maryland in June, with the obvious termination of the relationship and less opportunity for an ugly breakup), its not as bad as it could be.
There haven't been enough situations for me to really evaluate how awkward this whole thing is going to turn out to be. I'm not quite as weirded out as initially, but still not quite comfortable. I always had this fantasy that he would date one of my friends, have some kind of horrible breakup that for the rest of high school we would have to tiptoe around, and my social circle would become even more incestuous than usual, and long story short, my fun for the rest of high school would have been obliterated. This is one of the reasons that, yes, roll your eyes, become so exasperated that you punch a hole in your monitor, that it would be preferable for him to be gay. But he isn't. And we love him anyway. I'll get over this, things will become normal, and I really am happy for them. My reasons for not being are totally selfish, and I accept this. Joe really did need to date somebody.