on becoming a gay-nun...

I grew up as a kid always attending church every Sunday. I always had the most admiration for religion until well...I found out it condemns the "homosexuals." My views have been skewed due to the Christian fundamentalists, or Jesus Freaks as I often term them. Yet I have always maintained a sense of spirituality and sense of humor with religion. After all, there's always a good sex scandal with priests and alter boyz
And who could forget the classic line from Sex and the City when Samantha discusses her newfound "religion"

Samantha: I masturbated to my priest... Friar Fuck!
Carrie: Okay, I think we're going to have to get Charlotte a crash helmet.
Charlotte: You have a priest?

Samantha: [referring to a "hot priest"] Look at his robe. So "Robin and his Merry Men."

Yet on Saturday, my sense of humor diminished quickly as a close friend of mine suggested (half-jokingly) that I should look into becoming a gay-celibate priest. We were having brunch at Eatery and of course I being the hopeless romantic, was drooling over all the cute waiters, who coincidently all bat for the Rainbow team. Upon finishing our brunch, my friend grabs the tab and squiggles my number on the receipt for the server to pick up which would somehow explain the shy glimpse and awkwardness when he'd pour my coffee. (three times to be exact) Although I did find him attractive, I was in no position to pursue things further. (after all he wasn't THAT great at attending to my every needs ;). We left, or shall I say I left in a hurry as to quickly relinquish the embarrassment incrued upon our lovely dining experience. And that's when my friend half joking said (after I told her I wasn't ready to start picking up on waiter boyz) "you know, I wonder if they have a place for gay priests because you're certainly on your way to becoming one." THE NERVE!!! I actually chuckled at first, mainly because it was a clever witty comment, one that I certainly couldn't come up with as quickly, but 5 seconds later, I felt like I was going to cry because it felt so true. Having been more or less celibate (minus the quality time with my left hand) with guys for the past three years, it certainly had a stinging reminder that yes, I am still single, and 2, yes I am not getting laid anytime soon. My friend of course apologized, and I forgave her by waving my hands in the motion of a cross.(admonishing her sins away) But the thoughts of why I'm single and yes (sigh) slightly lonely did envoke a vast array of emotions I have tried to suppress over the years....you know, keeping busy, spending time with friends, yadda yadda. I look at guys my own age (yes 23...soooo old lol) and wonder how they are able to live such Samantha Jones lifestyles and not give a hoot about the deeper stuff (and I'm not talking dildos or butt plugs) They think with their dicks and nothing more. My conscious somehow gets the better of me everytime preventing me from taking part in that crazy activity of random hook-ups. Factor in the high standards, and there you go. Doesn't matter how much you try to shut it off (or have it heavily intoxicated), it's always there and always prevails. Why those close have admired my consistent moral, I have not come to the realization that this is entirely a good thing. Instead I feel more isolated and yes, sexually frustrated. I know patience is important to have, and lord knows I struggle with that, but I wonder when that time will come before I do indeed turn into a gay-nun.
BC