11.7b

Interesting fact about me: I can't bring myself to hate celebrities. Try as I might, I just cannot. I think it is a virtue to hate people freely and without restraint, because it shows some measure of mental cohesion and fortitude to make the choice to actually concentrate all the desires and fears of the mind into a single package of pure, unadulterated hatred.
I was never blessed with this gift. Instead, I was given the ability to see someone else's side in every argument ever. I can see the point that Brittany is just a tortured soul, Mr. Crocker. Or is it Ms? I can't tell anymore. The point is hardly whether or not Chris Crocker has chosen xer gender or whether xe will just fade into oblivion when all the people who have seen xer videos are dead. The point is that I feel both sides of every argument, and it hardly helps me sleep at night.


This factored into my life (my ability/curse to see both sides of every argument ever).  I was debating with myself in Listening To Music class what I should do about the whole Marco situation. Far from not boring holes in the back of his head with my gaze (as I should have done), I drilled holes so deep that I would not be ashamed to use them as viewing goggles because I bored right through his head.
Should I talk to him? He's nice and he doesn't seem like he has killed and eaten a dozen people or a school bus full of children. He talks intelligently and has proven to me on multiple occasions that he is, in fact, a human being [I have seen him request of the teacher permission to use the restroom. Aliens don't poop. That's one thing they can't do (in addition to breathe our air, drink our water, or reproduce with our people]).
Should I not talk to him? I don't know him and he might (probably will) think it's weird that I did, and I might say the wrong thing and how will I know if or when I've said the right thing. What if he doesn't even care about what I have to say and he was just being nice at the art exhibit because he's Enrique's friend and didn't want to make a total ass of himself? I suppose the biggest argument against me talking to Marco is that I didn't know what to say. So I just shut up and waited for an opportunity to say anything.
It came sooner than I expected.
And I didn't really talk to him, anyway. But it was a conversation with him nonetheless, even if it wasn't directed directly at him (or even the space around him).
We listened to a new piece from a rock album (I love our teacher) which included a cello solo. Then the professor opened the floor for debate. There was an intense and longing silence. I raised my hand.
"Yes? Um . . . Catherine?"
Every person in the classroom swiveled to look at me. Every eye was focused on me, and me alone. I suddenly wished for invisibility from the gift-giving monster/fairy combination. I managed to croak out
"I think the cellos sounded mournful."

Marco didn't stop smiling for the rest of class.
Even my double-sided brain can't think of ways to make that bad.