juin juin

I wish i had curly hair like this curly haired girl. 

My antidepressants are making me depressed...

Ry called, we spoke about how the G o T violence toward the body is really gone too far. Then he had to go make a delivery so we said we'll talk later. 

Evening with Michael, inspiring... he tells me that a book could be made about it all. Could i??? 

i want someone to change my password.... so that i can't go on the dreaded social network..

Should we put the baby before the bathwater? Or the baby before the babycarriage? 

Remember how I wanted rem to buy a bed with me, to get a bigger apartment, to start dreaming of owning a house. He would dismiss all of those yearnings toward something better, because he was not in a position to starting thinking of that. i.e. had no money. 

But isn't that how we get places we want to be? 

Before there are the toys and the jungle gym and the garden in the side yard there is an implausible peek in the newpaper just to dream. 

It is like when I realized I wanted to live alone I kind of dismissed the idea to myself, and then i started opening the pathway for it to come. And come it did. 

And I feel like in a way I never want to leave where I live. 

But how can i say that? 31, unattached... to any job or kids or anyone. N o one is my anchor is the truth. 

==============================

June 17 2013. 

Sunday. Deb will possibly talk to Sarah tomorrow about quitting. At least not going along with her new employee structure. Deb said "I'll wait until Monday -- I don't know why but I'll wait until then."

Sunday. Jen texts me while Im  at Dorin's gettin my hair super blonded. 

"serious shit is going down."

By the end of the week, she will decide if she will abandon physical therapy school for good, to go back to massage and things that she wants. if she is trying to be something she is not. 

She will decide by the end of this week. 

She will also begin to grieve the sudden move of Andy to back to his home town. 

I have this week alone to go to FASRI, sign a contract, and tell APC that I will transfer to Providence. 

In one week.

This is a big week. the stars are telling us. 

Last ight, date with "Jamie Hogan". 

He had bought me + julie a drink at NBC. Then came up to talk to us. Yada yada. To be done with it I gave him my number, even though I didn't like how he touched my shoulder for a few seconds too long. He texted me + we made a plan to have dinner. Etc. at fresh side. 

idrank ginger vodka lemonade and tons of yummy oodles of noodles. Then we went to amco, had some bourbon, i drove home and was asleep in 2 seconds. 

I think I have... gasp, screen fatigue. 

I didn't like the dude. He left me with so little impression. He is 44 with 2 twenty something daughters. WOW. that is different from 42 years old Frank dressing in punk clothes and at punk shows. 

He admired my hands and held them. Stop. But thanks for dinner. 

I was lucky that he didn't try to kiss me. 

I am  tired of dancing this dance. Playing the game. Listening and nodding. The requisite "thank you" text and being too busy to hang out again. Boundary boundary boundary. 

Aaron: he tried to do the dance with me. I always had to get up early the next morning. I always had other plans but let me take a rain check on that bottle of wine and you in that apartment before your roommate comes back. (remember that text!). 

Then he stopped responding to my texts, presumably because it wasn't easy enough to sleep with me?... and I am left of the memory of his blatant attempt to get me HAMMERED on gin + tonic at his apartment, while I recovered in his bed he drunkenly cuddled me. How does it feel to be a guy and want pussy so bad that you are happy to get drunk pussy. That is how the world works, I guess, and men are dogs. The essential conclusion. the sexual drive is so brutal that they fight for scraps.  

Where I feel mad and wronged is that I wronged myself. I wasn't interested in him!!!!! Wah wah. So what is my problem with boundaries. Why am I so shy to reject guys, to not return their calls. 

Guess what, I am fucking allowed to be selective. With my time. With who can get my rocks off. Lately I have not been very  selective. Aaron can right after I barf everything up into his bathroom. Disgusting. I was drunk, but I think I opened a box in his bathroom and in it were condoms for his skinny bone.

Now he is trolling around town in preppy clothes, trolling for pussy... trolling for his 'unbearable lightness of being' type of chick. Why is he invoking such wrath in me? This skinny bookish classical saxophone player! I think it is because he is so everything I hate about masculinity at this moment. These dudes who think they are god's gift to women, so they will spend their bachelor years collecting pussy after pussy. Until *they* are ready to commit to one. I remmeber how he just fricking bored me to death while I was like "mm hmm. Oh interesting." about his stories about partying in Saint Tropez or on the UES with the heir to Louis Vuitton. 

I am most mad at myself. For letting him bore me. For letting him think that I was considering sleeping with him. For letting him think that he could score a girl like me. Gain some weight first please!!!

Excuse me while I....delete him # from my phone. 

The ultimate fuck you sendoff!!! haha.