November 17, 2005
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Oh my gosh, I’m reading this Abbe Prevost and feeling
overexteeendeeeed. Nick seemed notenthusiastic with me tonight out of
sheer exhaustion and I, petty still (some), told my mother who turned
it into one big you oughtn’t visit him in early Decemberfest, + you are
lavish and spend way too much money on everything like prosciutto and
travel, and hurt my heart so I called back Nick and woke the poor
darned chap up and sniffled a lot for a good hour and he is SO
REASONABLE, SO RATIONAL, pulls out these amazing kernels of just
sagacity and salve-stuff that I just cannot contest so now I am
yippeeee, in love, and wanting things to be fine with my mother even
though the whole issue is: look at me, I’m independent, I don’t need
your blessing!!!, though goodness it feels much better to have it. I
guess it’s like senility, how in the old changing habits appetites
ranges of mobility memories temperaments and sooo on help us see It’s
Not the Same Person, although I’m sure like almost everything I think
and feel of late, that’s something Everyone Else realized ages ago. I
just adore my mother and think she has the best sense of humor and wish
I didn’t have to be essentially entirely financially dependent on her
because I guess she couldn’t criticize my choices but I suppose she
would anyway inherent-or-some-way-ly so I may as well mooch and so
forth. But ew, holding things over the heads of others or flinging them
in another’s face equals NE COOL PAS with me.This applies to roommates, partic. J.W. Krissy and I were thinking of
plastering a Signs That You Suffer From Passive-Aggressive Disorder and
Coping Strategies Etc. print-out on J.W. and Moriah’s door, but we soon
realized that it’d be a little, well,
passive-aggressive to do so. Last week hands-down boasted the highest
concentration of amazing young ubran working-folk social experiences I
will likely ever enjoy again–the wine flowed so Friday, and I prepared
a cornucopia of fall flavor thing dinner party with Jeff to the sounds
of old standards we ended up merlot-sloppy swingdancing to for about an
hour, and everyone ate drank merriment-made and all until late then
carried our things/us, essentially, back to our apartment and we talked
’til later still. I awoke utterly aching, and so read the whole day
off, but recovered in time for two nights’ later’s martini nighting, a
hilarious evening that saw our flambouyant Jeff and his
typically-straight-laced Kenyan suitemate Kioko escort Kristan,
Arlaine, Lauren (the best girls I know here right now) and I to the
lounge where I met so so so many eager professionals I hardly remember,
danced until my legs couldn’t hold me, and just laughed the night away.
Barring a little roommate tension, the transition from cocktails to
Folk Art Museum volunteering to my not-too-stressful workweek and back
to SoCo Wednesday was a smooth one, and we finally assembled all four
of the 10301 boys for a grand night both in and out which culminated in
an e-mail through which I expressed to Nick my love for him with all my
awareness, among other things (we still all wonder at that one), and we all played football by the clubhouse and I caught the
silly thing! Jeff and I want a lot of the same things out of life (men,
for one… and literature) and I think Kris wants such different things
that we all set one another of in weird, challenging, dynamic, but
utterly addictive directions. Ever since things have been tame; I’ve
just been reading lots of nonfiction and thinking about certain social
issues. I’ve also become very close with David, who is the nicest boy
and so intelligent and gentle and promises me an epidural and a half if
I ever do reproduce because he is studying to be an anesthesiologist.I don’t really need anything to happen, except there’s a little peace to be found, but I am fortunate.
