seeing myself through someone else's eyes.
most of the time she's not alone. but when she is, she looks like she's worried about something. she fidgets, and smokes a lot, and drinks fast. like she hasn't had a drop to drink in days.
when she's not alone, she laughs a lot. and smiles a lot.
but underneath, she just looks sad.
she never leaves the house without makeup on. not a lot. but she hides her skin.
she wears brightly colored shoes, more often than not. she works hard, but always has fun.
i've seen her break out into dance more than once. she seems like she has a lot of energy.
she's always walking quickly from place to place. she never moves slow, unless she is drinking.
sometimes, when she's alone, she's scribbling furiously in a spiral bound notebook with a sticker on the cover. she writes small and neat and in alternating colors, to differentiate the entries.
when she's on her stoop alone, she is usually with a beer, and always smoking. sometimes with a book, and sometimes with a laptop, typing furiously.
she is always writing something down.
what is she trying to remember? what is she working on?
sometimes she has a far-off gaze. like she's daydreaming, or wishing she could be somewhere else.
her furrowed brow makes me think that she's worrying all the time. even when she smiles, it is there.
she looks around a lot, too. like she's looking for someone. watching doors, scanning faces. and it makes me wonder who she is looking for.
she looks at her phone a lot, too. is she late for something? waiting for something? waiting for a call? not much time is passing, yet she always looks surprised to see the time, and her phone never rings.
is this a trick? because it's not a treat. oct 31st, halloween night.
alright.
after day two of beating myself up, i am asking for help.
i have an impossible time being forward. i've shown this on every possible occasion, except for one.
this is a call to all the dating experts out there, who happen into this blog. and, of course my three friend readers.
what should i say, if friday night happens again?
i need to practice, just like i eventually did with coffee in florida. it worked then. i recited my speech, nearly line for line. and it was the only way that i was able to not chicken out, and ask the hard questions.
part of my hesitation was because i know that he knows the bartender. and lives with her cousin. he's a guy. anything that does or doesn't happen would most likely be known at the bar. it's a little like peeing in the pool, i'm gonna have to swim around in it. and i'd really rather not. i am afraid to troll for boys there.
i know the easiest thing would be to say, 'here's my number'. but what if the guy is a creep. same with 'would you like to come over?' what if he is a creep who then knows where i live. not to mention a messy apartment without cable. he'd have to like one of the twelve movies i own. and then it becomes, 'sorry i have a tiny couch and that it's horribly uncomfortable.' because then it becomes, 'i know i just met you, but can we just watch online tv in my bed?'
it all sounds disastrous. and honestly, kindof scary.
why does this have to be scary?
i just want to make out. and maybe other things. but inviting a boy to my place seems like asking for sex straightaway. and maybe i don't want to do that.
maybe i do.
maybe i don't know.
i feel like an investigator.
i need to know who this boy might be. his past, slightly. who he knows, more so. because i also can't pee in the pool of people who know ever. it's like i have to be sure, and assume that everyone will know.
why am i so afraid? why didn't i say, 'you know? i'd love to go to six flags. what are you doing next weekend?'
only today is the last day that all the theme parks up here are open. he mentioned it that night. and i just verified it. why? why???
or i could have said, 'hey, we both like camping. i have a tent and two sleeping bags. we should go sometime.'
too soon.
i just feel like a total stranger is not the person to say those things to. i mean, six flags, fine. but camping with a new boy scared the hell out of me when alice did it. and i think it would take some getting-to-know-you time before i did that. and winter is fast approaching.
i realize now that, aside from ever, i think i met boys mostly at the coffee shop back in college. so i knew them going into it. or met them in a place where i wasn't afraid of them. it's different at a bar.
i have got to get over this.
i don't want a boyfriend. i mean, i do, but not really.
how to pull this off, without branding myself at favorite bar?
that night, i also didn't say anything about leaving together to hang out because i didn't want bartender to give me a hard time about it the next day. or see us leave together.
i don't know.
I DON'T KNOW.
help me, please.
i'm never going to survive this whole starting over thing.
i wanted to kiss him. better yet, and more honestly, i wanted him to kiss me. he was standing really close to me when we were smoking outside.
i always think i'm being a flirt when i intend to be, but if kit has to tell me to smile at someone i like, then i must have it all wrong.
i smiled that night. i laughed a lot. we were laughing so hard we almost couldn't talk at times.
and another part of it was that he was drunk. i mean, i guess that only probably would have worked to my benefit, but i wouldn't want him to take another beer if i asked him if he'd want to come over for a beer. i was fine, but his eyes were a little too glossy by the time our checks showed up.
i'm not a witty girl. and i think of 85 million things to say after the fact.
he's not friends with sam on fb, so i couldn't even go that route, to see if he is as cute in pictures as i thought he was then. or to see if i'm seriously robbing the cradle, or if he just looks younger than boys i should be looking at.
ugh. sunday night.
i picked kit up from the train station today, and we went to the bar for brunch. on my way to get her, i realized that i was in fact hungover from my disastrous night last night, and that i would be having a beer at 2 in the afternoon.
and then, as we were leaving, i offered to buy sam a drink. she was in a foul mood, and from the looks of her night last night, she probably had a hideous hangover.
and instead of accepting my offer, she said, 'wanna do a shot with me?'
and because i can't say no, i did.
so i had a shot at 330 on a sunday afternoon.
and didn't even have a buzz, but was completely cured of my hangover. and then i just got really, really sad.
i talked to aubree for an hour and fifteen minutes on the phone, but somehow we didn't really talk about much of anything.
and when i hung up, i just wanted to go to sleep. at like 530.
unacceptable.
so i forced myself to get off my bed and vacuum out my car and get a car wash for kenna's visit tomorrow.
and i felt fine once i was in my car. still sad, but at least better because i knew that my day tomorrow would be slightly less stressful.
my car is the cleanest it has been in years. and i can't even remember the last time i washed the thing.
it's probably a shitty job in the daylight, but at 7 pm, the bitch was SPARKLING.
sorry, miss b. i'll try to take better care of you.
funny, too. i got a flat on my bike this week, maybe tuesday. and i just couldn't get to the bike shop in time during the week. i was having a similar bed moment yesterday, feeling dumb and nervous and excited, but also scared. immobile.
and i made myself go to the bike shop. walked miss breezy over, dropped her off for 20 minutes. came back. $11 later, new tube.
i laughed on my way home. cars are so stupid. half new tires for my car when i got a flat were $300.
half my bike tires new cost $11.
and i felt just as accomplished yesterday when i walked breezy down the street as i did when i parked my car tonight.
i'm so glad for the time change next weekend.
it's 740 and it feels like it should be 1030.
there are kids yelling outside, trick or treating.
when i took the car out, i wanted to get home before dark. i almost made it. i have always been nervous about sugary kids running into the street in front of my car. i don't trust them one bit.
and walking in from my car, i thought about all of my halloweens growing up.
seriously? my parents were the shit when we were little (third grade and younger).
we lived in this neighborhood in the burbs.
and we would host a block party in our garage/driveway.
mom would make popcorn balls (still don't like them, but whatever) and candied apples, and cinnamon apples.
all the kids and parents would converge on our house, and bob for apples and other halloween things.
and then we'd trick or treat and come home to empty our plastic pumpkins before going out for more candy. three pumpkins later, we'd have enough candy to last a year, but it would be gone inside two weeks.
my brother and i would trade. he loved shit i hated and vice versa, and because i was smart and older than him and mean, i'd make sure the barters worked in my favor. it was never piece for piece. we'd separate what was up for trade and what wasn't, and go from there.
and the costumes.
maybe it's because i spent such a retarded amount of time on mine this year, but seriously? we never had a store bought costume ever. mom would start sewing them like weeks in advance.
i was a gypsy. that is one of my favorite pictures of me ever. my gypsy costume from either kindergarten or first grade.
i was a punk in third grade. hilarious outfit. i remember there being a lot of red and black. and my huge buck teeth fucking my shit up. fluo orange teased hair.
i am pretty sure i was a bumblebee one year, because wearing the antennae headband last night was very reminiscent for me. that just became a word that doesn't sound like a word. man, i'm tripped out right now.
i was a witch one year, olive green face paint and all. ugh. it was nasty. i hate that smell. i know i should probably love it, but i just can't stand it. i think that was the only halloween i opted for face paint.
high school was when shit got really crazy. i was jasmine in ninth grade. and the swimmer i crushed on was aladdin. it was awesome.
i copped out one year, and was a dirty laundry hamper, with boxers on my head.
i know i dressed up as a hippie for school, but i don't think that was on halloween. nina took an awesome picture of me for her photography class, and then watercolored it all technicolor. i still have it.
that was the first time i ever straightened my hair. back then, it was done by my mom, and with an iron. yikes.
i won second place in the high school costume contest my senior year for my raggedy ann costume.
when i lived in tahoe, i had a pretty awesome costume. i was in all silver, i guess i was a space lady, with an electric blue wig, which i hated to throw away some time a few years later. i always wanted straight hair, and it seemed the only way to have it.
awful roommate didn't hang with me that night, it was after i'd moved out. but she was mila's character in fifth element. you know, the part where she barely has anything on, like a couple bandages? yeah. whore. god, i still hate that bitch.
and then last year, the pirate costumes for ever, the puppy, and me. i love those tattooed sleeves. the outfits mom made were kickass.
i trick or treated into my first year of college. i was a candy junkie. mom wouldn't let me go after that. 'you're too old, tea. hand out candy.'
i wish i could remember all the other costumes mom made for me.
i'll have to jog her memory.
this is enough for now.
i reborrowed my room to write book from kit.
i think i might take a stab at some exercises to see if i feel better writing about something that isn't a journal post.
while i listen to jonsi's solo project for the first time.
god, i love him.
i promised nate tonight that no matter how much tickets cost, i'll be at the next jonsi/sigur ros concert in nyc.
so pretty. seriously, amazing. i adore him.
and knowing nate, we'll probably go to the bar with jonsi after the show. he tends to make friends with celebrities. i don't know how, but he does.
and i love that parts of this album are in english. that's the hardest thing about sigur, not knowing what the fuck they're singing about all the time.
cigarette. room to write.
go.
after day two of beating myself up, i am asking for help.
i have an impossible time being forward. i've shown this on every possible occasion, except for one.
this is a call to all the dating experts out there, who happen into this blog. and, of course my three friend readers.
what should i say, if friday night happens again?
i need to practice, just like i eventually did with coffee in florida. it worked then. i recited my speech, nearly line for line. and it was the only way that i was able to not chicken out, and ask the hard questions.
part of my hesitation was because i know that he knows the bartender. and lives with her cousin. he's a guy. anything that does or doesn't happen would most likely be known at the bar. it's a little like peeing in the pool, i'm gonna have to swim around in it. and i'd really rather not. i am afraid to troll for boys there.
i know the easiest thing would be to say, 'here's my number'. but what if the guy is a creep. same with 'would you like to come over?' what if he is a creep who then knows where i live. not to mention a messy apartment without cable. he'd have to like one of the twelve movies i own. and then it becomes, 'sorry i have a tiny couch and that it's horribly uncomfortable.' because then it becomes, 'i know i just met you, but can we just watch online tv in my bed?'
it all sounds disastrous. and honestly, kindof scary.
why does this have to be scary?
i just want to make out. and maybe other things. but inviting a boy to my place seems like asking for sex straightaway. and maybe i don't want to do that.
maybe i do.
maybe i don't know.
i feel like an investigator.
i need to know who this boy might be. his past, slightly. who he knows, more so. because i also can't pee in the pool of people who know ever. it's like i have to be sure, and assume that everyone will know.
why am i so afraid? why didn't i say, 'you know? i'd love to go to six flags. what are you doing next weekend?'
only today is the last day that all the theme parks up here are open. he mentioned it that night. and i just verified it. why? why???
or i could have said, 'hey, we both like camping. i have a tent and two sleeping bags. we should go sometime.'
too soon.
i just feel like a total stranger is not the person to say those things to. i mean, six flags, fine. but camping with a new boy scared the hell out of me when alice did it. and i think it would take some getting-to-know-you time before i did that. and winter is fast approaching.
i realize now that, aside from ever, i think i met boys mostly at the coffee shop back in college. so i knew them going into it. or met them in a place where i wasn't afraid of them. it's different at a bar.
i have got to get over this.
i don't want a boyfriend. i mean, i do, but not really.
how to pull this off, without branding myself at favorite bar?
that night, i also didn't say anything about leaving together to hang out because i didn't want bartender to give me a hard time about it the next day. or see us leave together.
i don't know.
I DON'T KNOW.
help me, please.
i'm never going to survive this whole starting over thing.
i wanted to kiss him. better yet, and more honestly, i wanted him to kiss me. he was standing really close to me when we were smoking outside.
i always think i'm being a flirt when i intend to be, but if kit has to tell me to smile at someone i like, then i must have it all wrong.
i smiled that night. i laughed a lot. we were laughing so hard we almost couldn't talk at times.
and another part of it was that he was drunk. i mean, i guess that only probably would have worked to my benefit, but i wouldn't want him to take another beer if i asked him if he'd want to come over for a beer. i was fine, but his eyes were a little too glossy by the time our checks showed up.
i'm not a witty girl. and i think of 85 million things to say after the fact.
he's not friends with sam on fb, so i couldn't even go that route, to see if he is as cute in pictures as i thought he was then. or to see if i'm seriously robbing the cradle, or if he just looks younger than boys i should be looking at.
ugh. sunday night.
i picked kit up from the train station today, and we went to the bar for brunch. on my way to get her, i realized that i was in fact hungover from my disastrous night last night, and that i would be having a beer at 2 in the afternoon.
and then, as we were leaving, i offered to buy sam a drink. she was in a foul mood, and from the looks of her night last night, she probably had a hideous hangover.
and instead of accepting my offer, she said, 'wanna do a shot with me?'
and because i can't say no, i did.
so i had a shot at 330 on a sunday afternoon.
and didn't even have a buzz, but was completely cured of my hangover. and then i just got really, really sad.
i talked to aubree for an hour and fifteen minutes on the phone, but somehow we didn't really talk about much of anything.
and when i hung up, i just wanted to go to sleep. at like 530.
unacceptable.
so i forced myself to get off my bed and vacuum out my car and get a car wash for kenna's visit tomorrow.
and i felt fine once i was in my car. still sad, but at least better because i knew that my day tomorrow would be slightly less stressful.
my car is the cleanest it has been in years. and i can't even remember the last time i washed the thing.
it's probably a shitty job in the daylight, but at 7 pm, the bitch was SPARKLING.
sorry, miss b. i'll try to take better care of you.
funny, too. i got a flat on my bike this week, maybe tuesday. and i just couldn't get to the bike shop in time during the week. i was having a similar bed moment yesterday, feeling dumb and nervous and excited, but also scared. immobile.
and i made myself go to the bike shop. walked miss breezy over, dropped her off for 20 minutes. came back. $11 later, new tube.
i laughed on my way home. cars are so stupid. half new tires for my car when i got a flat were $300.
half my bike tires new cost $11.
and i felt just as accomplished yesterday when i walked breezy down the street as i did when i parked my car tonight.
i'm so glad for the time change next weekend.
it's 740 and it feels like it should be 1030.
there are kids yelling outside, trick or treating.
when i took the car out, i wanted to get home before dark. i almost made it. i have always been nervous about sugary kids running into the street in front of my car. i don't trust them one bit.
and walking in from my car, i thought about all of my halloweens growing up.
seriously? my parents were the shit when we were little (third grade and younger).
we lived in this neighborhood in the burbs.
and we would host a block party in our garage/driveway.
mom would make popcorn balls (still don't like them, but whatever) and candied apples, and cinnamon apples.
all the kids and parents would converge on our house, and bob for apples and other halloween things.
and then we'd trick or treat and come home to empty our plastic pumpkins before going out for more candy. three pumpkins later, we'd have enough candy to last a year, but it would be gone inside two weeks.
my brother and i would trade. he loved shit i hated and vice versa, and because i was smart and older than him and mean, i'd make sure the barters worked in my favor. it was never piece for piece. we'd separate what was up for trade and what wasn't, and go from there.
and the costumes.
maybe it's because i spent such a retarded amount of time on mine this year, but seriously? we never had a store bought costume ever. mom would start sewing them like weeks in advance.
i was a gypsy. that is one of my favorite pictures of me ever. my gypsy costume from either kindergarten or first grade.
i was a punk in third grade. hilarious outfit. i remember there being a lot of red and black. and my huge buck teeth fucking my shit up. fluo orange teased hair.
i am pretty sure i was a bumblebee one year, because wearing the antennae headband last night was very reminiscent for me. that just became a word that doesn't sound like a word. man, i'm tripped out right now.
i was a witch one year, olive green face paint and all. ugh. it was nasty. i hate that smell. i know i should probably love it, but i just can't stand it. i think that was the only halloween i opted for face paint.
high school was when shit got really crazy. i was jasmine in ninth grade. and the swimmer i crushed on was aladdin. it was awesome.
i copped out one year, and was a dirty laundry hamper, with boxers on my head.
i know i dressed up as a hippie for school, but i don't think that was on halloween. nina took an awesome picture of me for her photography class, and then watercolored it all technicolor. i still have it.
that was the first time i ever straightened my hair. back then, it was done by my mom, and with an iron. yikes.
i won second place in the high school costume contest my senior year for my raggedy ann costume.
when i lived in tahoe, i had a pretty awesome costume. i was in all silver, i guess i was a space lady, with an electric blue wig, which i hated to throw away some time a few years later. i always wanted straight hair, and it seemed the only way to have it.
awful roommate didn't hang with me that night, it was after i'd moved out. but she was mila's character in fifth element. you know, the part where she barely has anything on, like a couple bandages? yeah. whore. god, i still hate that bitch.
and then last year, the pirate costumes for ever, the puppy, and me. i love those tattooed sleeves. the outfits mom made were kickass.
i trick or treated into my first year of college. i was a candy junkie. mom wouldn't let me go after that. 'you're too old, tea. hand out candy.'
i wish i could remember all the other costumes mom made for me.
i'll have to jog her memory.
this is enough for now.
i reborrowed my room to write book from kit.
i think i might take a stab at some exercises to see if i feel better writing about something that isn't a journal post.
while i listen to jonsi's solo project for the first time.
god, i love him.
i promised nate tonight that no matter how much tickets cost, i'll be at the next jonsi/sigur ros concert in nyc.
so pretty. seriously, amazing. i adore him.
and knowing nate, we'll probably go to the bar with jonsi after the show. he tends to make friends with celebrities. i don't know how, but he does.
and i love that parts of this album are in english. that's the hardest thing about sigur, not knowing what the fuck they're singing about all the time.
cigarette. room to write.
go.
the one where tea gets stood up. kindof. oct 31st, technically.
yeah.
this feels a little too much like summer. when i came home defeated, after packing my car for an overnight.
i changed my sheets. i cleaned my apartment. i shaved. i clipped and painted my toenails so i wouldn't scratch him with my feet when we were spooning. and making out.
i had my eyes on the prize.
and just like summer, i should have fucking cashed in last night when the opportunity arose. and just like i did back when i had the chance, i hesitated for another opportunity.
i will never do that again. i can't take it. i beat myself up, and it's no fun.
i went to the bar. i didn't want to go late. so i went for the party. at 830 instead of 8.
and i had a beer.
and got hit on by some 40 year old black dude who swore i was shelly from 2 and chestnut.
he wasn't picking up my hints. he said i looked sad.
i told him i was just tired, and watching the game. world series.
and i told him i was waiting for a friend. he asked male or female. i said male.
he said that if he didn't show up, he'd be sitting a few seats away at the bar.
alas, there was no tim.
i drank my beer. went upstairs to the gutted shell of the second floor bar, celebrating the growth of my favorite bar, that will include a second floor.
they didn't advertise it, but there was free beer.
so i had one. and dude came up behind me and said, 'hey, butterfly.'
i said hi, and then went back downstairs for a second beer and some food, so i could clear the minimum and pay with my card.
i was trying not to watch the door. but i looked a few times.
nothing.
got hit on by another dude, who said i should go upstairs for the free beer. another 40 year old black dude.
i guess i am a type?
then had a third guy (late thirties, white) tell me that i'd look great in my wings and nothing else.
so i fought the urge to get upset by it, because i was still holding out hope that my boy would show, and said, 'but what about the boots?'
thanks.
really.
and way to go, tea. that, too.
maybe someday i'll learn to appreciate these things.
but until that day, it seems i'll always want one specific dude's attention. and fuck every other guy that i have no interest in.
none of the other ones were even remotely cute.
i wanted time.
and i waited.
and he didn't show.
i should have had him over last night.
i should have made out with him while i had the chance. when he was sharing his food with me, and when i shared my food with him. while he was actively, drunkenly, engaged.
instead, i'm home completely drunk at 11. and there's no boy here with me.
sam did show up eventually. and she was a lot of fun. and shannon kept me company, too.
what does it say about me that all the girl bartenders at the bar were the extent of the conversation i had tonight?
oh, and? to top it all off... hot bartender was there. i think with his girl. yeah. he was clark kent. gucci glasses. superman tee hanging out of his dress shirt and dress pants. he looked so good. it was really unfair. and it made me feel pathetic, seeing if he at least saw me, out of the corner of my eye.
whatever.
you know, it's fine.
this is why i'm doomed to lead a solo existence.
this is why i will be alone until february like i promised myself that i would.
because i spent all day not eating because i was so nervous about that boy showing up. and then he didn't. and got stupid drunk drinking beers faster than i should have to avoid further unwelcome conversation.
tim missed out.
i looked fucking adorable. i made sure of it.
whatever.
maybe some day for hangover brunch i'll see him again. if he really goes there all the time like he said that he does, it's inevitable.
but i won't be a butterfly.
and i won't look as cute as i did tonight.
his loss, right? that's what i'm supposed to tell myself?
yeah. well, it doesn't make me feel any better about coming home alone.
all i wanted was to make out. and have this boy as my local fuck buddy after he put in one night where i didn't give it up to him so easily.
and it didn't happen.
not even close.
and i have the spins from the beer. and i missed alice's party and ash's party because i blew my wad all too soon at the bar five doors from my apartment.
again.
whatever.
i'll sleep this off, too. just like the rest of my life.
fuck all.
i'm OUT.
this feels a little too much like summer. when i came home defeated, after packing my car for an overnight.
i changed my sheets. i cleaned my apartment. i shaved. i clipped and painted my toenails so i wouldn't scratch him with my feet when we were spooning. and making out.
i had my eyes on the prize.
and just like summer, i should have fucking cashed in last night when the opportunity arose. and just like i did back when i had the chance, i hesitated for another opportunity.
i will never do that again. i can't take it. i beat myself up, and it's no fun.
i went to the bar. i didn't want to go late. so i went for the party. at 830 instead of 8.
and i had a beer.
and got hit on by some 40 year old black dude who swore i was shelly from 2 and chestnut.
he wasn't picking up my hints. he said i looked sad.
i told him i was just tired, and watching the game. world series.
and i told him i was waiting for a friend. he asked male or female. i said male.
he said that if he didn't show up, he'd be sitting a few seats away at the bar.
alas, there was no tim.
i drank my beer. went upstairs to the gutted shell of the second floor bar, celebrating the growth of my favorite bar, that will include a second floor.
they didn't advertise it, but there was free beer.
so i had one. and dude came up behind me and said, 'hey, butterfly.'
i said hi, and then went back downstairs for a second beer and some food, so i could clear the minimum and pay with my card.
i was trying not to watch the door. but i looked a few times.
nothing.
got hit on by another dude, who said i should go upstairs for the free beer. another 40 year old black dude.
i guess i am a type?
then had a third guy (late thirties, white) tell me that i'd look great in my wings and nothing else.
so i fought the urge to get upset by it, because i was still holding out hope that my boy would show, and said, 'but what about the boots?'
thanks.
really.
and way to go, tea. that, too.
maybe someday i'll learn to appreciate these things.
but until that day, it seems i'll always want one specific dude's attention. and fuck every other guy that i have no interest in.
none of the other ones were even remotely cute.
i wanted time.
and i waited.
and he didn't show.
i should have had him over last night.
i should have made out with him while i had the chance. when he was sharing his food with me, and when i shared my food with him. while he was actively, drunkenly, engaged.
instead, i'm home completely drunk at 11. and there's no boy here with me.
sam did show up eventually. and she was a lot of fun. and shannon kept me company, too.
what does it say about me that all the girl bartenders at the bar were the extent of the conversation i had tonight?
oh, and? to top it all off... hot bartender was there. i think with his girl. yeah. he was clark kent. gucci glasses. superman tee hanging out of his dress shirt and dress pants. he looked so good. it was really unfair. and it made me feel pathetic, seeing if he at least saw me, out of the corner of my eye.
whatever.
you know, it's fine.
this is why i'm doomed to lead a solo existence.
this is why i will be alone until february like i promised myself that i would.
because i spent all day not eating because i was so nervous about that boy showing up. and then he didn't. and got stupid drunk drinking beers faster than i should have to avoid further unwelcome conversation.
tim missed out.
i looked fucking adorable. i made sure of it.
whatever.
maybe some day for hangover brunch i'll see him again. if he really goes there all the time like he said that he does, it's inevitable.
but i won't be a butterfly.
and i won't look as cute as i did tonight.
his loss, right? that's what i'm supposed to tell myself?
yeah. well, it doesn't make me feel any better about coming home alone.
all i wanted was to make out. and have this boy as my local fuck buddy after he put in one night where i didn't give it up to him so easily.
and it didn't happen.
not even close.
and i have the spins from the beer. and i missed alice's party and ash's party because i blew my wad all too soon at the bar five doors from my apartment.
again.
whatever.
i'll sleep this off, too. just like the rest of my life.
fuck all.
i'm OUT.
good night. october 30th, technically.
so i'm only writing this because i met a boy.
at favorite bar, where he also spends a lot of time. i don't remember ever seeing him there, though...
not much to say, really.
if my place wasn't such a mess, i could have invited him over, but i'm a chickenshit, so i wouldn't have anyways.
he's like intern v2.0.
same pennsylvania accent.
probably the same age. i'd guess 24.
we were laughing. i laughed to tears a few times.
it was random enough. went to the bar alone. only one seat was open, between two boys at the same end of the bar that was fantastic last weekend.
he was on the end, to my right.
he was there for the truffled mashed potatoes. i was there for a celebratory beer, because the wings are painted and FUCKING AWESOME.
i headed over at 1115.
he said something to me, i guess about the food. asked me what i was going to get.
and it ended up being a two hour conversation.
i went for one beer, and had an allagash white. which was fantastic, btw.
i ended up having a second.
what's funny is that he lives with sam's cousin.
we talked a lot about the phils. thank god i'm into them, and can hold my own when it comes to talking baseball now.
it was cute. i don't know. i can't stop smiling about it.
i felt really awkward being there alone. and it was such a relief to talk to someone that i didn't know, but got along well with. and he smokes, so we had a couple cigarettes together.
i don't know.
he was super cute.
i was pretty happy that he talked to me at all, much less cared about what i was saying, and matched it.
i don't want to make more out of it than it is, but i think it's pretty funny that i wrote something about a boy keeping me warm right before i left.
i don't know etiquette when it comes to talking to boys in bars and taking them home for a nice makeout session.
but i would have kissed him.
but i didn't.
and he knows i'll be there tomorrow, so i guess that if he goes, i'd better have a clean apartment. because there might just be a boy in it tomorrow.
and i wouldn't say that, but the way he looked at me when i said goodbye and gave him a hug ('i'm a hugger' preface) made me think he expected me to ask him over.
he was talking about all the broken bones he's had in his life, and when i told him about breaking my wrists in seventh grade, he asked if i needed a hug or something.
god, he was cute. i worried that i put my foot in my mouth when i commented on my 'baby sister' who is 21. like, oh shit... is HE 21? but he's out of college, and working as an e.r. tech. so he has to be at least 23, right?
god, this shit is nerve-wracking already. and this is only two hours in...
welcome to the water, i guess.
i'd be lying if i said that i didn't care if i see him there tomorrow.
i really kinda hope i see him there tomorrow. i won't drop the ball this time. i'll clean the place up.
but i might need some coaching.
heads up, kit.
at favorite bar, where he also spends a lot of time. i don't remember ever seeing him there, though...
not much to say, really.
if my place wasn't such a mess, i could have invited him over, but i'm a chickenshit, so i wouldn't have anyways.
he's like intern v2.0.
same pennsylvania accent.
probably the same age. i'd guess 24.
we were laughing. i laughed to tears a few times.
it was random enough. went to the bar alone. only one seat was open, between two boys at the same end of the bar that was fantastic last weekend.
he was on the end, to my right.
he was there for the truffled mashed potatoes. i was there for a celebratory beer, because the wings are painted and FUCKING AWESOME.
i headed over at 1115.
he said something to me, i guess about the food. asked me what i was going to get.
and it ended up being a two hour conversation.
i went for one beer, and had an allagash white. which was fantastic, btw.
i ended up having a second.
what's funny is that he lives with sam's cousin.
we talked a lot about the phils. thank god i'm into them, and can hold my own when it comes to talking baseball now.
it was cute. i don't know. i can't stop smiling about it.
i felt really awkward being there alone. and it was such a relief to talk to someone that i didn't know, but got along well with. and he smokes, so we had a couple cigarettes together.
i don't know.
he was super cute.
i was pretty happy that he talked to me at all, much less cared about what i was saying, and matched it.
i don't want to make more out of it than it is, but i think it's pretty funny that i wrote something about a boy keeping me warm right before i left.
i don't know etiquette when it comes to talking to boys in bars and taking them home for a nice makeout session.
but i would have kissed him.
but i didn't.
and he knows i'll be there tomorrow, so i guess that if he goes, i'd better have a clean apartment. because there might just be a boy in it tomorrow.
and i wouldn't say that, but the way he looked at me when i said goodbye and gave him a hug ('i'm a hugger' preface) made me think he expected me to ask him over.
he was talking about all the broken bones he's had in his life, and when i told him about breaking my wrists in seventh grade, he asked if i needed a hug or something.
god, he was cute. i worried that i put my foot in my mouth when i commented on my 'baby sister' who is 21. like, oh shit... is HE 21? but he's out of college, and working as an e.r. tech. so he has to be at least 23, right?
god, this shit is nerve-wracking already. and this is only two hours in...
welcome to the water, i guess.
i'd be lying if i said that i didn't care if i see him there tomorrow.
i really kinda hope i see him there tomorrow. i won't drop the ball this time. i'll clean the place up.
but i might need some coaching.
heads up, kit.
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