Life Worth Living

The way my blogging goes now, I think of one little thing to write about and put that away in the back of my mind as not worth mentioning on my own. A day later another little thing comes whizzing through my thoughts and I squirrel that one away with the first. Within a week or so, I have a little bundle of random jumbled thoughts that don’t bear much weight on their own but together make a post. Of course, by the time I’m actually sitting down to write the post I very well may have forgotten a few of the thoughts, and more’s the pity.   Anyway, my mind is currently occupied with thoughts which involve Leone—which is unsurprising, considering his company is the only real social outlet I have right now. It’s sad but, well, it’ll only be for two more weeks. I’m in a write-y mood tonight, and I have a lot to say.

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Today my Kabarett class had our final “performance”, which consisted of a showcase of our our two most rehearsed poems as a sort of interlude to some sort of high school German test awards show…thing. Afterward the half of us who could make it hung out and bbq-d in the backyard of one of my classmates. Just like at last semester’s German dinner, I found that it was so much easier to get to know and chat with the students when we were speaking English, and just like last time, I got the feeling that the semester is ending just as I’m starting to become friends with these people. It makes me sad to think about the friendships I could’ve gained if only we were speaking English from the get-go.

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Leone, nibbling at my shoulder today, said I smelled and tasted smoky (from standing next to a grill for 2 hours). I don’t know that smoky’s a very appropriate scent on a girl, but I rather liked that.

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He asked me today if I wanted to take the bus home or him to drive me back. “I want you to want something,” he insisted, referring to my easygoing attitude. When I told him it really didn’t matter, he said “Sometimes you’re too laid back.” He said it lightly, but I blanched, because even though I sometimes feel the exact sentiment, here he is taking one of (what I think to be) my best qualities and casting a negative light on it. Sitting on the bus thinking about it, I was irrationally scared that being in a relationship would make me stop loving myself. For that split second, I wanted to run.

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I was looking at the pictures from the party Buttercup, Jasmine, and Daisy went to last Friday while I was hanging out with Leone, and it made me sad because it looked like they’d had so much fun. I’d honestly planned on going (I even picked out my outfit for Leone’s friend’s birthday based on what I would wear to the party right after) but Leone convinced me at the last moment to stay. The pictures, though, made me miss my friends. And I feel like such  a bad one.

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Summer is rapidly approaching, and the weather reflects it (at least it does when we’re on this side of the rain-sun-rain-sun pendulum). If I hadn’t been so sun-starved since freaking November I would have complained loudly about today’s glorious heat. Instead, I loved it. Doesn’t agree with my allergies though.

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I haven’t done much work to speak of since 2 weeks ago. This is a bad thing, because in the next three weeks I will have a 13-15 page research paper, a 7-9 page theory paper, a 3-5 page day-paper, and two finals. I haven’t yet begun research or reading for any of the papers.

I’m DONE.

I’m done. I’ve sat through all of my friends finishing before me and trickling away, four finals that felt like a lot more than four finals, nights of not studying…and I’m finally. Done. It feels so good.

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I had to pack twice this time. Once for Canada, to which Rosemary and I are going at 11 tonight, and once for a month at home. It doesn’t feel like I wont be back in Berkeley until the end of January, it really doesn’t. I know that I’m going to miss it soon…Guess what about it I’m going to miss the most?

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Leone called me yesterday. Drunk. We talked for an hour, and he admired my quick wit. I admitted to him that the first time we talked was because I whispered to Buttercup that “that guy over there” was hot. He told me to start thinking of things to show him in SJ. Way to weaken my resolve. As if I needed the help. I’m so deeply in like break is going to be painful.

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I think I’m done with The Chemist. As soon as things started rolling with Leone (Mid November, maybe), I haven’t had any interest in blowing him. I feel bad for him, but we were never exclusive. Even if my thing with Leone “flops”, I think I want out of things with The Chemist.

I know it’s been a while since an update, and I really couldn’t give a reason for that. So I’m not even going to try.

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Last weekend Jasmine, Buttercup, and I went camping at Bodega Bay. Considering that our plan was to spend two November nights in summer tents at a campsite surrounded on three sides by water, and considering that weathermen had been crying Rain, it wasn’t the smartest thing to do, but some ass had booked the campsite the weekend we had planned to go, and we’d brought booze.

It was cold. So incredibly cold, but completely worth it. The thousands of stars, the warm bonfire, the crash of the waves and the low drone of the foghorn…more than made up for the wet muddiness that we woke up to the second morning. It was EVERYWHERE. In the tent, on our clothes, inside our clothes. It didn’t help that we had to take everything down unwashed and sopping wet. Still, I’d do it again, although I wouldn’t complain if next time we did it in summer.

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I’d started a post on this, but I think it dissappeared into the interwebs because I didn’t save it. It wasn’t a great post anyway. It went something like “I think I like this guy, and I think I’ve liked him for about a month now, but I have a stupid irrational superstition that if I talk about something that I actually really care about, it wont come true. Whatever, right”

He’s hot, and he’s funny, and he may or may not be interested. I’m not quite certain yet, and I hope get the chance to find out. Meanwhile, I’m trying to stop myself from full on liking him…and I’m not sure it’s working.

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I was running out the door to meet JT on his lunchbreak when Jasmine called me. She bore news: the guy that she liked, the guy that had come over on Halloween, whom we’d shared a bed with, and who’d been coming on to me majorly, had asked her, “do you mind if I ask your friend [truste] to a ball I’m going to?”

Which put me in a place I’d rather not be. Of course, I was flattered. Of course, I kind of wanted to go, but there was no way I’d hurt Jasmine.

Later as I browsed the racks of a Charlotte Russe, I thought about it through a practical lens. Ball = dress + hair + makeup + shoes + whatever else it takes to make myself presentable. I dont have time, money, or the access to any of this stuff. Not that I would’ve gone anyway. Too messy of a situation.

After I got home, the three of us agreed that should the guy ask me, I would tell him that I was already kind of involved with someone else, and therefore can’t go with him. Not really a lie; blowjobs every monday isn’t exactly nothing. What the guy doesn’t have to know is that I would ditch The Chemist in a heartbeat if a better guy came along. (Not exactly true. Re: this post)

Later, Jasmine told me on AIM that the guy had drunk texted her. He’d said “hey after the ball I’ll bring [truste] over and we can all party”. Jasmine noted to him that, um, excuse me, stud, maybe you should ask before assuming she’d say yes, and then she fed him our agreed upon excuse. He told her not to worry, he’ll ask someone else.

Crisis averted?

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Meanwhile, I had turkey, went Black Friday Shopping, and am avoiding the work I have to do over break. Gobble.

I’m fairly sure that the Berkeley campus is having a mass hangover. No one on the streets, no one at the gym…I hope some people at least had more fun than I did. Well actually, I’m not that type of person, the kind ones the world really needs, who are happy for other people and willing to settle for trickle-down joy. And my Halloween was a little less than stellar.

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JT and Jack Dawson are in the other room. Alone. With the door closed. I hope they’re not, like, having sex in there, because it would be rude of them when I have dinner all heated and Buttercup is waiting for us to come over.

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Although, even if they’re talking—which I think is what they’re doing—it’s still a little rude of them.

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They did this a few hours ago too, at the dollar store. Jack Dawson had been pissy/quiet since he’d gotten here and he apparently pulled JT aside in the store and they then proceeded to have a 3o minute talk and I…strolled around the aisles and tried not to look like I was loitering around a dollar store. For 30 minutes. Finally I said to hell with it and went to fetch them, because there’s only so long a girl can stand in front of the check out lanes with a sullen look on her face.

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Tomorrow is Buttercup’s Halloween potluck, and I’m dressing up for the first time in years and I’m excited. On a similar note, a very hot guy that I think maybe possibly may be a little interested in me might be there. Haha, I guess it doesn’t sound very exciting on paper. Er, cybertext. Or whatever.

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Also, Korean 2 will be there. Korean 2, who, might I remind you all, Buttercup thinks likes me. And I see it too. And I have no real interest in him, except that I like that he likes me.

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Romeo might be there too. But I’m guessing not.

—

I am so excited.

Wth was my last story freaking too-long-to-count ago? I need to get on that
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Buttercup asked me if I wanted Romeo‘s number. I told her no, but to give him mine and tell him to let me know when he’s horny. She didn’t at first because she didn’t want me to seem desperate, but recently when he messaged her she asked him if he wanted my number in a by-the-way. He replied to what she had said regarding the conversation proper, but not the by-the-way, and I’m guessing I should take this to mean he’s not interested? Surprisingly, I dont care as much as I thought I would. I dont take kindly to rejection, which is why I thought I’d be bummed, but I’m not really. Only thing is, I wish he would consent to replace The Chemist as my FWB, and I wonder if he thinks I want a romantic relationship, and that’s why he’s not chomping at the bit. Well; I hope that gets cleared up.
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The reason, I think, that I dont care nearly as much about Romeo’s apparant disinterest, is that I’m distracted by someone in my German class, who is hot as a smouldering volcano in August. He sits next to the window, so he’s always backlit, and that plus my crappy vision makes it really difficult to tell, but for the last few weeks I thought he’d been glancing over a lot. Last week he and I talked/joked/flirted, and this week I’m getting double the glancing over. Except now I know that he is, I’m not sure what that entails. Interest? Does he look at everyone? I would hate to lose this one too because neither of us had the balls to make the move, so I should get on that.
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Jack Dawson is a controlling, nosy, personal-space-invading jerk. And JT needs to grow a pair and either tell him to stop or tell him he wants out.

I know I haven’t been here in a while, and if I had any readers, it would matter. It’s a good thing, then, that I dont. I’m not blogging partly because I have nothing to talk about (because going to class and reading a buttload of books every day sure isn’t a hot topic) and I dont like to blog with Rosemary around anyway, because it may lead to “what are you writing?” “Oh…I write a blog” “Really? Can I see?” There’s some things here that I dont want Rosemary to know. To get around this I usually pretend I’m writing an email to my cousin (I click “compose” in Yahoo Mail and write my post, then copy & paste from there) but that doesn’t explain how long I spend writing, and it’s a hassle anyway. I actually have a handful of posts that I’ve half written and just never finished, including a “story” or two, so I haven’t been completely idle, as far as the blogging goes.

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I was going to write on some of these following topics separately, until I realised I didn’t really have that much to say about them. Also, my attention span is short today. Also, it’s 3 AM.

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I’ve been too long without a moniker for the guy mentioned here and here. I was hoping that if I waited something would come to me, but there’s only so long I can call someone “that guy from that night”. So from henceforth he will be known as (here’s where I write the rest of this before coming back to the name) The Chemist. You cant expect me to be creative at 3 in the morning

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Sometimes The Chemist is kind of a jackass. I dont know what he wants of me anymore, but since I told him he could go hook up with other girls I think he may have abandoned wanting a relationship. Which is fine with me. He’s not what I’m looking for in a boyfriend for reasons I’m too tired/lazy/busy to get to right now, but just because we have a pseudo-friends-with-benefits-and-peculiarities relationship doesn’t mean you use me. Just because I dont mind coming over and blowing you doesn’t mean I’m not a girl. And you dont let girls walk home alone at 1:30 AM, in Berkeley, no less. It’s not that I was scared I’d get attacked/raped/mugged/eaten by a bear; it’s that that’s just not what cool guys do. I’m above that. I’m probably one of the most zen-about-this-sort-of-thing girls you’ll ever meet but I do have some self respect; I dont deserve to be treated like that. Maybe I’m just being bitchy. So be it. The only reason I’m letting this carry on is summer.

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Oh, the word “douchebag” comes to mind to describe The Chemist, too. Yet I do kind of like him. No, not like like. Like as a friend. With benefits. I may elaborate on this in a later post.

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I’ve been wanting a tattoo. It’s one of those things where I’m not positive I want one but I know I’ll just keep thinking about it and wanting it more and more until I eventually cave and get it. I’ve always kinda sorta wanted one but didn’t know what to get or where to get it. I’m pretty sure now that I want a little ship. A little stylized sailboat/pirate ship. I’ve always found them so beautiful, and it would be the perfect balance of cool but not cliched, or at least, I think so. Dunno where I’d get it though, but I do know that it’s not gonna happen until at least when I get back here for summer classes.

Oh, and Mom would freak and call me a lesbian if she found out.

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JT invited me to his friend’s birthday party. This coming Friday. A formal black dress affair. On a yacht. No, let me say that again: On a YACHT. In the bay. A real yacht.

(Technically when he told me about the event I threw away all my dignity and basically begged him to get me invited even though I’ve never even met the guy, which JT was more than happy to do.) There was a little bit of a scare when for a brief while reservations were all filled but currently I’m down for YACHT on Friday.

Omg I’m so excited. You know how I am about the ocean and ships. A real yacht!

One more time, I promise.

A YACHT.

The end is in sight! And what a grand sight it is, too. I’ll be gladder when finals are over.

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It’s just past midnight on Friday (which I guess makes it Saturday but it’s never tomorrow for me until I go to sleep). Guess what I was doing last week at this time? Tossing back shots, flirting with guys, three hours up the road from giving my first blowjob. And now? I just watched a really bad horror movie. By ‘really bad’ I mean, it was so bad that it was good. And this movie was really really bad.

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What do I do now? Is my life changed? Part of me wished it was going to, but I dont really think it has significantly. The aforementioned part of me wants me to just get a move on things. But true to my word, I’m just crusin’ now. No more angst, no more second-guessing myself. I’ve gone near 20 years without a guy, I can wait a little more. I can wait for the one who will chase me.

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Funny thing, but this whole incident has changed my feelings toward JT entirely, which I shall describe soon in a private post.

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Speaking of private posts, I haven’t had one since…March 16. I know, right? I remember back when half of my posts were privated. Almost two months and I haven’t had anything big on my brain that was too embarassing or stupid to share with the world. It feels so much better this way. Then again, it could just mean I’m more okay with sharing potentially shameful things…which, I’m okay with that.

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Speaking of what happened last week at this time, it is now almost 3 AM, which means that a week ago I was probably on my way to Cap’n Crunch’s house. Seeing as how I dont want to sit here thinking (now’s when he kisses me…now’s when he takes off his belt) and how I’m not doing anything productive anyway, I’m going to go to bed.

‘Night!