End of a long, long week, and halfway through the semester. And more than a third through my life expectancy. Yahoo. I'm stuck here in the lab. Because it's pouring and I left not only my raincoat but my umbrella at home. I walked though. Generally, I don't let my bike get rained on.

I would like to talk about females today. Last post I wrote, "every time I think a girl likes me, there's always a more logical explanation."

So it happened again this week, in a manner of speaking. It's so lovely to get attention, however little, that you for some reason interpret as positive attention, only to find that it's actually someone mildly and passingly intrigued only by your freakishness. Cute person. But evidently not impressed.

On the other hand, I try to ignore. I try to 'think in Vulcan'. The Vulcans are my heroes. Especially T'Pol. I sit in the front row. I concentrate, I ram the words into my mind. But once in a while I end up sort of 'thinking' about somebody in a class. Or, as with the recent person, a physical response is elicited: my breath gets caught, heart rate and pressure increase, slight shake/nervousness ensues when she enters the computer lab three seats down. It's quite an annoying failing of mine.

I tell you, controlled endocrine disruptors/testosterone blockers would sell! I'd buy.

A couple of weeks ago, I had the chance to be sort of 'chivalrous' two times in a ten minute span. Both times I stopped myself from acting. First, I was nearly through with my Marketing exam. The class is in a huge auditorium with stadium seating, and I sit on the front row by the aisle. The steps are tricky. A girl tripped and fell as she was bringing her exam forward. Her backpack put her off balance too. This was right beside me. She was embarrassed. I instinctively started to get up to help her up. Then I stopped. The girl behind me asked if she was okay. She was. I returned to my exam. Next, after the exam I was waiting in line for the lab. There was a good wait because the other lab was down for repairs. So all machines were filled and the wait was variable. The girl behind started talking to me about the wait. She needed to print something out quickly. All I was going to do was check email since I had a little more time to kill before the next class. I thought about switching places with her so she could get her printouts sooner, which would have been nice. But I stopped myself.

I have female friends, sort of. I would say acquaintances, actually. I'm not sure what I think, anyway. I have: no job, no money, no transportation, a small apartment with no entertainment, no time for anything, a less than stellar social life, etc. I'm also in my late 20s and an undergrad (and therefore surrounded by people in their early 20s). In addition, I've got acne, a poor wardrobe, a mediocre build, boring and/or repulsive looks, hair, and voice, etc. I don't have the toys to impress (boat, sports car, sportbike, huge ass entertainment center, etc.), the money to wine and dine, or the charm, wit, personality, etc. that stands out. So I mean, it's not some head-scratching mystery.

In addition, I cannot stand many of the traits expressed by a vast majority of twenty-something females. I really don't have time to list them all for you, I just wanted to mention that there's a lot not to like!

I usually have no trouble being polite and kind to females who return the gesture. Then they are just people.

I'm not promiscuous. I'm not out for casual sexual relationships. I mean, obviously, but even if I were me trapped in Tom Cruise's body, that would still be true. I choose not to elaborate.

The heck of it is that I utterly completely realize this is all just me being a prisoner to a want. The only true freedom is freedom from the heart's desires. Furthermore, this particular want, or desire, is triggered by a deeply-rooted and encoded biological imperative: the need to procreate. Suppressing that superfluous directive would be marvelous.

Then there's the 'Rachel Factor'.

It's worth mentioning that the last FOUR, yes, FOUR (actually could be five in a way) females who I dared to 'ask out', so to speak, said 'no', with varying degrees of enthusiasm and elaboration.

I think that I will have to keep trying to control my own mind. Clearly, this isn't 'going away', so my best bet is to learn strength, mind over mind, direction.

The strongest reason might be to avoid what transpired with Carolyn Melissa Holsonback (there, I typed her entire name, although I called her 'Missy'--but in a couple weeks you'll be able to type that name into any search engine and this diary page will be result #1). I was weak and expectant and murderously gullible. And someone came in and used that to astonishing effect.

Who can forget those heady days waaaay back when when Dana Harper was around though? That was better than all the blue windbreaker girls or Rachels or Ingrids or Kim Szatkowskis in the world.

I'm not taking a 'wait and see' attitude. I've seen enough to find no news to change my mind. In a couple of years, I'll be making some good money and getting away from this hellhole, but little will have changed. I'll still be 'me'. It's always been a bitter pill.

But the thing is, I type this with a straight face. I'm not 'sad' or depressed about this. I'm resolute. I'm a slight bit agitated about the recent person at the moment, in a 'should have known', rolling my eyes type of way. But I'm strong, and used to it. I've been doing this 'Kevin White' thing for the better part of three decades now...