Could I be any more awkward? The answer is no. I have come to the conclusion that due to my lack of experience with men in the past year, I have no idea how to interact in any way. I am a stuttering, red-in-the-face, trainwreck who is destined to live with female roommates and cats for the rest of my life due to my complete inability to be a normal human being around the male species.
I used to joke about starting a lesbian commune and never leaving my female-only world again, but I’m starting to think that may be a legitimately good idea, if not just for me than for the men who have the misfortune of entering my life.
“Only people of a certain disposition are sure they're going to be alone for the rest of their lives at age 26, and we were of that disposition.”
Why is High Fidelity amazing and why can’t I stop quoting it/watching it lately? Yes, I am aware that I am not 26 which makes my belief in the sentiment even more pathetic.
Brian was over last week and said “Hey, can I have my High Fidelity back?”
I changed the subject promptly, not because I can’t go out and buy my own, but because I was 99.5% sure that I would want to watch it as soon as he left and Tracey went to bed. Which is exactly what happened. It’s funny how sometimes it takes longer than it should to really get things. Something that seemed so ridiculous to me a few years ago is now the only thing that makes sense to me. Yes, I’m being vague.
In other news, my mother drunk dialed me at 3:30 this morning asking me to go online and find out how to get to Milwaukee so she could drive there with my step dad and try out for a reality show. No, I’m not lying. I mumbled no fucking way into the phone and went back to sleep. Can we begin to discuss what is wrong with that situation?
And while my mother is partially to blame for my night of bad sleep, I have been a grouchy, miserable, sleeper lately. I toss and turn while mumbling “fuck” or “this fucking sucks” or “Theodore, fucking stop chewing on my hair.”
I ultimately decide to just stay awake and instead of doing anything remotely productive, or perhaps getting some fresh air for once (since I have been confined to a bar or office every day for the past 9 days) I just lie there, pissed at myself for not buying enough sleeping pills at Walgreens last month and promising myself to buy more after work tonight.
Yeah, that about brings us up to speed.
4 comments:
I was of that "certain disposition" at age 26. And then one day, while driving down the street, I had my eye on this pretty Puerto Rican chick just a diddy-boppin' on down the line, when all of a sudden, while stopped at a red light, Amy jumped into the front seat and it's been a great ride ever since. The point is: I wasn't expecting it.
And I can see how being in the office or the bar for 9 days straight would give you a sense of cabin fever, hence the anxieties of being stir-crazy. That's why I became a photographer (well, that and to meet girls). It's 6:20 on Sunday and I'm a tired fuck. I'm in the Grind sending my shots to STiNG from the 15 shoots I had this weekend (hence the rambling diatribe) and then I'm going to the Grafton for a few Pints or six.
We gots to hang out soon. Mybe I'll stop in Tuesday or Thirsday.
EPD
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