Even The Damned Bobblehead Says I'm Gay...

So, in highschool I was a dancer... I had training in ballet, jazz, hip hop, the whole works...I'd been schooled by the best in our city... I was also a singer...I had six years of formal vocal lessons, had performed in four major touring choirs, bands, and many a church... I was also an actor... I've been Friedrich von Trapp in The Sound of Music, Motel Kamzoil in Fiddler on the Roof, even Arthur in Camelot... So, how could a fully closeted (even to self) high school student use all of these skills other than to form an *N Sync cover group, of course...

Now, if the people around me (and hell, myself) couldn't tell I was queer by the dance belts, tights, make up kits, hair extensions, unitards, costume pieces, and full library of Broadway sheet music for tenors, it certainly wouldn't hurt anything if I was obsessed with Justin Timberlake.

Honestly, though, we were really good. We knew every move to every dance they did, and we didn't pull a drag queen (sorry ladies) and lip synch to the songs. We frickin' sang our asses off... We had body mics and the whole works. We performed at pep assemblies, dances, parties, and various other venues...and the girls loved us...and the gays loved us... I WAS Justin Timberlake, the star... I followed him through the short, bleached hair phase, the white boy afro hair phase, and *gasp*, even got cornrows... wow...

Anyway, I was cleaning out my beard room today and found an old Justin Timberlake bobblehead. Thus began the journey into yet another seemingly unnoticed early sign of my orientation...