Oui. Ja. Yes.
i have less than one month to finish my victory lap and get the hell out of this town. i was noticing that i had up until now a supremely foggy sense of how late in the year it actually is. after chatting with my parents about our familiy's thanksgiving plans (more on this later.) i was forcibly shaken from the haze surrounding my overall sense of time and space thus reminding me that my life is very quickly hurtling toward doom. a bit overdramatic, yes. but i have far too much to do in far too little time and if i think about it for one more second of this small break im taking from my jam-packed fulloftediouswork weekend, im going to have a minor stroke.
in happier news, my parents have decided it is more efficient for the two of them to journey to central texas rather than have their three adorable children brave the highways independent of one another. they are staying in a hotel and (much to the chagrin of every man in my family) my mother and sister have decided that they are in fact going to cook dinner.
in a two bedroom suite with adjoining kitchenette.
my suggestion of eating at a chinese restaraunt was met with shock and awe and also dismay. to which i replied "turkey is soooo 1994." and sulked. because i am the mature one in the family.
and about that ridiculous love life - i went on two dates this week. (dates? do people still say date? i think society as a whole is moving toward a larger grey area wear it is to presumptious to say "date" so we've dropped it for the more flexible "hanging out" to avoid having to define the evening. all of this i find far too confusing so im just going to codeify it by calling it a date. two, in fact.) with the soulmate. it has been quite a while since i went on a date and after digitaly hyping this relationship for what seems like weeks i was ubsurdly nervous. i found myself, more often than not, beginning some sort of very amusing and entertaining story only to find myself completely lost in the middle of it and unable to remember my point. so i usually tried to wrap each of them up with some semblence of wit and clarity, but probably failed more than once. which, had the date in question not been a former national forensics league champion (i mean, COME ON! cut me a break here!), would probably have been misconstrued as charm. either way i got a free drink and an umbrella out of it all, so i would say he either had a good time or desperately wanted to give away his umbrella. but he asked me out the following night, so im guessing the former.
the second date - thanks to some very strong drinks mixed by the lovely bartenders of "copa" - went rather swimmingly as well. i was considerably more comfortable and became a shiny bastion of conversation with almost everyone i came across. which, as we've previously discussed, is a trait i almost nary posess. i was amazing and i looked exceptionally cute, if i do say so myself. (i have the most amazing conversation-peice t-shirt that has more than payed for itself in attention.) so, yay for me.
but then, i went to meet my roommate at the gay bar (two good dates and im wearing my cutest shirt ever? im positively oozing with contentment.) and who do i run into? but the troglodyte i was given the shaft for. he was very chatty and surprisingly his conversation did not make me want to drink poison or commit ritual sepukku. however when i inquired as to his relationship status with my evil crush he proceeded to tel me that he was simply not interested. he continued, and i quote, "he's very nice and everything. and i had fun or whatever but he's not my type. pluse he's a bad kisser." ouch. how SAD for my evil crush, i thought. and then i actually did feel sad for him. why should i feel bad for him? he didn't do anything to deserve my sympathy. or my empathy for that matter. but either way, i felt bad enough to im him later and he felt bad enough about it it seems to be short with me in im mode. bastard.
in happier news, my parents have decided it is more efficient for the two of them to journey to central texas rather than have their three adorable children brave the highways independent of one another. they are staying in a hotel and (much to the chagrin of every man in my family) my mother and sister have decided that they are in fact going to cook dinner.
in a two bedroom suite with adjoining kitchenette.
my suggestion of eating at a chinese restaraunt was met with shock and awe and also dismay. to which i replied "turkey is soooo 1994." and sulked. because i am the mature one in the family.
and about that ridiculous love life - i went on two dates this week. (dates? do people still say date? i think society as a whole is moving toward a larger grey area wear it is to presumptious to say "date" so we've dropped it for the more flexible "hanging out" to avoid having to define the evening. all of this i find far too confusing so im just going to codeify it by calling it a date. two, in fact.) with the soulmate. it has been quite a while since i went on a date and after digitaly hyping this relationship for what seems like weeks i was ubsurdly nervous. i found myself, more often than not, beginning some sort of very amusing and entertaining story only to find myself completely lost in the middle of it and unable to remember my point. so i usually tried to wrap each of them up with some semblence of wit and clarity, but probably failed more than once. which, had the date in question not been a former national forensics league champion (i mean, COME ON! cut me a break here!), would probably have been misconstrued as charm. either way i got a free drink and an umbrella out of it all, so i would say he either had a good time or desperately wanted to give away his umbrella. but he asked me out the following night, so im guessing the former.
the second date - thanks to some very strong drinks mixed by the lovely bartenders of "copa" - went rather swimmingly as well. i was considerably more comfortable and became a shiny bastion of conversation with almost everyone i came across. which, as we've previously discussed, is a trait i almost nary posess. i was amazing and i looked exceptionally cute, if i do say so myself. (i have the most amazing conversation-peice t-shirt that has more than payed for itself in attention.) so, yay for me.
but then, i went to meet my roommate at the gay bar (two good dates and im wearing my cutest shirt ever? im positively oozing with contentment.) and who do i run into? but the troglodyte i was given the shaft for. he was very chatty and surprisingly his conversation did not make me want to drink poison or commit ritual sepukku. however when i inquired as to his relationship status with my evil crush he proceeded to tel me that he was simply not interested. he continued, and i quote, "he's very nice and everything. and i had fun or whatever but he's not my type. pluse he's a bad kisser." ouch. how SAD for my evil crush, i thought. and then i actually did feel sad for him. why should i feel bad for him? he didn't do anything to deserve my sympathy. or my empathy for that matter. but either way, i felt bad enough to im him later and he felt bad enough about it it seems to be short with me in im mode. bastard.
posted by culligan at 9:24 PM
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