'What a day. . .'

I had one of the most colorful days of my life today:

I kissed, for the first time, a girl that I have a crush on.

I got stranded in the rain.

I snapped at my parents.

I got in a car accident in which I nearly died (guess who was driving).

I was nearly attacked by my OWN dog.

I spilt queso ALL over my clothes.

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'Wisdom and Baggage'

So there's this girl. I've been spending time with her recently and am growing quite fond of her. In fact, I can't say I've really felt anything like this in the two years (it feels a lifetime) since Rachel.

I mean, obviously I'm not saying I'm in love or anything: i've only known her for a week! It's just...she's a lot of fun.

But she's been sending me mixed signals (don't you just *hate* that?).

In fact, she blew me off this evening. I knew what was happening. Saw it coming a mile away (It's always a giveaway when they tell you to meet them there, neh?). But it still pissed me off...

But I don't get pissed off!

But I was.

--I don't react the same way other people do; I don't stay mad. I don't think I can. Instead, whoever upsets me to such a great degree drops down a peg in priority. What do you care if someone you don't care about blows you off? Not a whit, that's what.--

Thing is, everything that happened could very well have not been her blowing me off. I chose to see it that way (as previous experience has taught me to predict) though it could merely have been the fates conspiring against me.

What's the line between baggage and wisdom? My friend Amy says it's your attitude: how you choose to react to the conclusions that you draw from your previous experiences.

I got upset and then wrote her off when instead I should have accepted what I saw coming with equanimity.

*tsk tsk*

Thing is, I already know this is all temporary and in the morning I'll be as 'ga ga' over her as before. In fact, I'm already looking forward to her call with far more anticipation than is prudent.

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'Woo woo'

Ha HA!

I had the best time last night, EVER! Of course, I say that every time I come back after a night of clubbing with my friends...

I actually got spanked, quite literally, on the dancefloor. And not just like once -- but 10 or 20 times! And you know the best part? I liked it >8).

There's just something really hot about a girl who makes eyes at you and then takes the initiative to come over and dance all freaky without so much as a how-do-you-do. Of course, maybe it was so hot was because SHE was so hot. If a girl who I wasn't attracted to as much tried it, I'm sure I wouldn't have mentioned it here, neh?

D-Fuse Forever Playahhhh!

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'Timing'

I made a rule long ago: never to call Rachel drunk. Ever. But I could never keep to it. Why? I kept forgetting why.

--You want to know why? Because she doesn't entertain drunken dialing.--

Admittedly tonight was a bad night because it turns out I called her just after her new boyfriend broke up with her (yeah that's right: her first boyfriend since me -- two years ago), I guess it's forgivable.

I don't know why it is, but I just started spouting. I think it was because I didn't want her to hang up on me and I happen to know that she rarely hangs up on a person mid-sentence.

But when I started spouting, it's like a part of my brain that is either really stupid or really out-to-get me took over and started saying the most awkward and piercing and hurtful things to her. Things that would sound innocuous to anyone listening to the conversation, but after I analyze it later, it becomes patently obvious that they were mostly statements meant to sting.

Mind you, all of these words were just falling out of my mouth before I could even censor/change even a whit of them. Like I was sitting there and hearing someone else say them.

Ironic, since I decided long ago never ever to talk to her again. That any further correspondence would be a very bad idea. But I did it. And then some part of my brain went and sabotaged it. Happy coincidence or some fail-safe in my head?

Why did I call her in the first place?

Because she's the ONLY person I know who's always awake at 5am.

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'Back'

Ha ha! I'm back! *cackles darkly*

Sorry for being away for so long: my computer died in mid-April, and after wrestling with problem after problem (in what free moments I had -- which were few and far between) I finally threw in the towel a couple of weeks ago.

I just flew in from school last week and have established a new base of operations here (at least, I have a computer here that I own enough to save files onto).

Expect more updates soon ^_^

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'Handicapped'

It always somewhat bothered me that when I tell someone that I don't have sex with girls whom I don't love, he or she (girls more than boys) take it to be some sort of nobleness in me. I'm not noble.

Much of it has to do with the lack of opportunity, but more of it has to do with the fact that I've tasted what it's like to make-out with a girl who I don't love (or know). It's empty and pointless and makes me feel bad about myself.

I don't want to fuck or boing or make love to anyone if it means it won't be fireworks. I don't want to cheapen my memories. I imagine it would be like getting pot when you're fiending after smack. Sketchy pot that sears your throat and leaves tears in your eyes.

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