He tried to get me to say stuff about my mood swinging and coloring my perspective and I actually kind of laughed at him because it was so forced and desperate, he was like, "Well. You have this mood... that swings... back and forth." And I was like, HA. And he was like "I'm trying to be a serious psychologist for a minute here." So, that made me laugh. And then, he continued, more astute, about looking at the external situation and I kept on saying No. I know. But. It's not like that. And he said, Oh, well, why not, you tell me?
So I (completely pretending I had NOT JUST WRITTEN HIM about why I'm miserable right now... as he was, because, for all I know, maybe he hasn't even read it, right?) said:
"Okay. It's like... I have nothing to tell my Grandma right now. On the phone... Well I can make stuff up..."
"Oh..." he said, "Well.. what would you like to tell your Grandma?"
"Well, she just wants to hear--" I said, "That I have a nice boyfriend, and I'm at a job I like." I started tearing up. "So, I don't have anything to tell her." I put my face in my hands. And just sat there like that sobbing still and silent into my hands for a while.
Showing posts with label i have nothing to tell my grandma. Show all posts
Showing posts with label i have nothing to tell my grandma. Show all posts
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
So, hmm. Scene Six, Take Two.
Well hell's belles.
Okay. So this is what happened again. I deleted some about it, but over the last couple weeks I've just been kinda bubbling up again, on the lemon-gin-fi33-that-is... I've-
I've been doing other stuff, too. I'm going out with a 3illionaire. His address isn't even a real address. I met him at that party I went to with the necro. And we've gone out twice. Haven't really kissed him yet, clearly, NO interest-- but we've gone out twice. And will on Friday. Probably. He is actually- and I know I've said this, but I do mean it this time- really kinda brilliant, and kinda awesome, but, I am just not attracted. I am just not. Not when I've got Dr. Drrr-r-reamy-ohmygod-shutup-nowaythatsyourshrink-he'sgorgeous-says-every-girlfriend-I've-linked-to-his website to satiate their curiousity, fuck, sitting at me like that.
He sat so close to me last week. I touched his leg. Not even by accident. Not even by pretend-accident. Just one of those, like, "Oh my god I KNOW!" things where you touch the person, to more emphatically relate on a point. And he kinda tapped me back, with his foot. When I was like, "Oh, I'm sorry, I was just like--" and did it again. And then he moved his feet away. I mourned on the inside.
And THEN, a minute after THAT, he moved them back. Closer. So our feet were touching. For a few minutes. And I had to pretend four of my six stomachs weren't doing the cumbia.
He has a huge, roomy office. No need to be up on me like that.
And those last couple weeks were straight BAR-CHAT. Jokes and movie recommendations and restaurant recommendations and even [no] religion & politics [at the bar]. I've gone to three of his restaurant recommendations in the last week. He's like-- marking his territory. Cu3 I'm not gonna think of anything else now, at those places, in my (and his) neighborhood. And I've seen two of his movies and have the next two in my Netflix queue and-- he's got one of mine now. One I bought. That I lent him. Ayup. Got it indefinitely. Scented version. Hahahaha. That shit is CKOne'd out of its goddamn mind believe me.
But, so, all that being said. I am still, not, anything, clearly, with him, and, still, doubt that I ever will be (as in, there is doubt, not as in, I totally doubt), so, yeah, I drank myself UTTERLY STUPID over the last few days, everyone, I apologi3e, and, well, I was really upset, because, like, this is happening again, where I just can't not-say-anything-anymore, it's the same thing, again, so, now, I wrote him, that little thing I posted about my dream, but, also, something substantially longer, a little more direct (but not much. This is direct as I get.) and I saw him today, and, didn't say anything, but was not all cheery like I have been, and he said so, and there was a little bit of restaurant and movie talk but then it sorta stopped, like it always does when I'm feelin' weird, because, well, it's Julian, I'm not putting on a show for him and he knows I'm a wackjob. And he knows I'm not.
Okay. So this is what happened again. I deleted some about it, but over the last couple weeks I've just been kinda bubbling up again, on the lemon-gin-fi33-that-is... I've-
I've been doing other stuff, too. I'm going out with a 3illionaire. His address isn't even a real address. I met him at that party I went to with the necro. And we've gone out twice. Haven't really kissed him yet, clearly, NO interest-- but we've gone out twice. And will on Friday. Probably. He is actually- and I know I've said this, but I do mean it this time- really kinda brilliant, and kinda awesome, but, I am just not attracted. I am just not. Not when I've got Dr. Drrr-r-reamy-ohmygod-shutup-nowaythatsyourshrink-he'sgorgeous-says-every-girlfriend-I've-linked-to-his website to satiate their curiousity, fuck, sitting at me like that.
He sat so close to me last week. I touched his leg. Not even by accident. Not even by pretend-accident. Just one of those, like, "Oh my god I KNOW!" things where you touch the person, to more emphatically relate on a point. And he kinda tapped me back, with his foot. When I was like, "Oh, I'm sorry, I was just like--" and did it again. And then he moved his feet away. I mourned on the inside.
And THEN, a minute after THAT, he moved them back. Closer. So our feet were touching. For a few minutes. And I had to pretend four of my six stomachs weren't doing the cumbia.
He has a huge, roomy office. No need to be up on me like that.
And those last couple weeks were straight BAR-CHAT. Jokes and movie recommendations and restaurant recommendations and even [no] religion & politics [at the bar]. I've gone to three of his restaurant recommendations in the last week. He's like-- marking his territory. Cu3 I'm not gonna think of anything else now, at those places, in my (and his) neighborhood. And I've seen two of his movies and have the next two in my Netflix queue and-- he's got one of mine now. One I bought. That I lent him. Ayup. Got it indefinitely. Scented version. Hahahaha. That shit is CKOne'd out of its goddamn mind believe me.
But, so, all that being said. I am still, not, anything, clearly, with him, and, still, doubt that I ever will be (as in, there is doubt, not as in, I totally doubt), so, yeah, I drank myself UTTERLY STUPID over the last few days, everyone, I apologi3e, and, well, I was really upset, because, like, this is happening again, where I just can't not-say-anything-anymore, it's the same thing, again, so, now, I wrote him, that little thing I posted about my dream, but, also, something substantially longer, a little more direct (but not much. This is direct as I get.) and I saw him today, and, didn't say anything, but was not all cheery like I have been, and he said so, and there was a little bit of restaurant and movie talk but then it sorta stopped, like it always does when I'm feelin' weird, because, well, it's Julian, I'm not putting on a show for him and he knows I'm a wackjob. And he knows I'm not.
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