Is it bad to eat a hot dog almost every day? Please don't answer that. It would ruin one of my favorite foods. To cancel out the bad effects, I'll probably go on hot dog sabbatical after this package is done (5 more hot dogs! Whoppe!)

Huge, gigantic, amazing news: I went to the theatre tonight, and I believe I met a straight man! I was at a reading for an anthology of plays, and one of the playwrights, a youngish looking fellow, was wearing bits and pieces of what looked like various suits, along with a baseball cap. Strike one. During his own reading, he seemed enthralled by the gorgeous woman reading one his monologues, in which the character is having a sexual encounter. He wrote it, he cast it- Strike two. THEN, afterward, I went up to him, and told him how much I enjoyed the play (particularly it's theme of the mid-mid-life crisis, which I believe I am beginning to experience), yada yada yada, and he then made what seemed to me to be a very straight man move- he introduced himself. Said, "I'm Name, by the way". Smiled, shook my hand. And strike three- he's out of the gay man ballpark!!! Amazing. I nearly peed in my pants.

That was as far as it went, though; audience members crowded to get their books signed, and I knew I really should get home and at least pretend to study for my midterm. So I left. And on the way home, I become pensive- I felt like I hadn't handled the situation the way I would've liked to. I am a very outgoing person, right? Everybody says so, at least, but sometimes I feel quite shy. I see opportunities to take risks when meeting people far more often than I take advantage of them. And where does that fear come from? What does giving in to it really protect me from? As Jai Rodriguez says in Queer Eye for the Straight Guy, "Ask her out. Just do it. What's the worst that can happen? 'No.' You're not going to lose money, she's not going to yell at you, and you're not going to get beat up by her gigantic boyfriend (unless the gigantic boyfriend is standing right next to her when you ask, in which case you're not too bright, are you?). Remember: It's the not games we lose that we end up regretting; It's the games we don't even play." Amen, Jai, amen. I've never regretted putting myself out there (giving a guy my number or asking him out), but I've definitely regretted some of the times I haven't.

So, some of the late evening was spent kicking myself over this situation. But thankfully, your dear MissPinkKate is a resourceful little devil. She took advantage of her lover, Mr. Internet, to do a little Google search of this guy- and lo and behold, he's the contact for his theatre troupe, which he mentioned before the reading, and which was on his baseball cap. So I sent off a little e-mail: hi, you met me, loved the show, put me on the mailing list, did you start this company? wow blah blah blah. Who knows what will happen, and frankly, who cares- I probably won't! Ain't that the way it goes. All I know is, if I hadn't done anything, I might be kicking myself later. And my butt is too flat to take any of that kind of abuse.