THAT DAY

Yoga class. The teacher, Jeannie, talks of a dance she's choreographing. Some male dancers quit--said she was stereotyping them. Jeannie defends her view, which is, frankly, that all women are oppressed, therefore all men are oppressors.

She's talked this way before--"Men are shits". I've taken it in silence before, but now I speak up--"You do often talk about men in a sexist way, and it's hurt me."

In the ensuing discussion, one angry girl says "Men ARE all the same. NO ONE will date me, just 'cause I'm fat." Odd... since she's isn't fat! And my best friend Mark'd ask her out instantly, she's just his type--curvy, busty, with an attractive face and smart aura. Yet she's certain not one guy will like her, and FURIOUS about it, and blames THEM. Us. Took this class to lose weight. Because she's sure that's her problem. Not her anger--which is what kept me away. Glary scary...

I just joined this class to strengthen my weak joints... and maybe meet someone who's not enraged, or sure I'm a jerk.

Wrong class!

THAT NIGHT

1: Underage Bunnies

I'm in a bookstore, looking at calendars about spring and fertility (it's early March and everything here in San Francisco is blooming already.)

Find a sexy calendar showing the Easter Bunny. She's a BEAUTIFUL fifteenish girl dressed as a rabbit--more Playboy than Easter.

In the background, a second bunny-girl dances on the grass.

And as I stare, I realize they're moving, living, breathing--not drawings or photos. I'm here in a Garden of Eden with them.

And they're not just costumed as bunnies. They're real. Half-rabbit, half-human, and all-adorable.

So what do I do? I jerk my eyes away! "Forbidden, child porn, sexism, exploitation..."

They're celebrating fertility, sex and joy.

My reaction? Guilt. Look away!

2: Foxtailed Racers

My eyes light on a second living calendar. Looks like New Mexico--high sagebrush desert, mesas. A dirt path winds toward peaks in the distance.

Then two runners lope by. They're barefoot, in loincloths, like it's centuries ago.

They're trailing red fox tails! Are those fake, attached to their loincloths, or... REAL? After the last dream I can't casually reject that possibility.

Fox ears, too. And sharp fox faces.

Those aren't masks. They grin and wink at me as they pass.

Human or fox or both, these girls aren't underage like those Easter bunnies--tall, athletic, busty adults, model-beautiful, fashionable cheekbones and all.

Unconflicted beauties confident about their bodies, full of energy and expressiveness.

So intense!

And AGAIN... I guiltily look away.

3: Witch and Wolf

Next my eyes light on a tall, dignified woman in a witch-hat and robe.

She's staring into the thoughtful eyes of a wolf with tall ears and a high forehead.

A sentient wolf--staring back.

For a few moments, I tolerate this image--no nudity, so their sexuality's less explicit.

But the implication's there; you can see they're in love.

And rather than face that...

AGAIN I look away, look away, look away!

4: Worthless Me

Just in case THAT wasn't enough, a FOURTH dream. I'm walking around my childhood housing tract, meeting girl after girl of every age, race... and species.

Every one's attractive. Every one pointedly mentions she's single. Yet I don't ask any of them out. Never even occurs to me.

After all, what's the use? I'm so worthless no one would ever date ME.

Instead I curl up--avert my eyes from EVERY kind of sexy temptation. All forbidden, all hopeless! ALL.

My yoga classmate was sure no guy would ever date her; she didn't even see her false assumption. In contrast, these dreamlets rub MY problematic assumption right in my face--no denial allowed! My despair's not because I'm fat, thin, or any specific trait; mine's fatally flexible. Dating is hopeless because I am hopeless--but for no particular reason!

I have serious brainwashing to undo. And my so-called peers and so-called mentors are worse than no help at all. Well, not quite. Their idiocy isn't mine, but it teaches me about my own.

Learn from fools!

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