How 'bout...not!
07 December 2003 at 1:14 am

Last night, Adam (yes, that Adam, from, what, two years ago?) and I hung out, and it was loads of fun. He and Mike the bartender and Matt the sous chef and Aaron the boyfriend and I hung out at Casanova, and Adam hit on some Slovakian girls and I had to ask for more coke in my rum and coke. Those boys: they spoil me so. I haven't paid for a drink since I've moved here. We discussed how we've changed since we last saw each other (he has new glasses, I have longer bangs, which he prefers), and also contemplated why we cannot be what we feel. We have a lot in common. I think I'll keep him. As much as Aaron and I can talk about anything, they're kind of biased conversations, because we're both just after one thing: sex. Well, that, and peaceful coexistence.

I drove Adam home to SFSU, which is out by Daly City, which is a twenty minute drive, which is not fun at 3 in the a.m. On the way back, I got mercilessly lost in the endless roundabouts, found myself at the Villas Parkmerced, took a random way and ended up on the 280 to San Jose. I got off at the exit where, in a brilliant corporate move, there exists an In-N-Out and a Krispy Kreme in the same lot. Then I called Aaron and started crying because every exit was south but I wanted to go north. Obviously, I made it home, but I hate being lost. And I am always lost. Thus, I always hate.

Look at how I draw out my conclusions. I'm so ready for college again.

I was up at 6am to move my car to kosher parking and up again at 7:30am to make it to city college so I could take a placement exam (which I later found out was COMPLETELY unnecessary...note to employees: be aware of your most basic policies, lest I get pissed off and do nothing about it). The English part was a breeze, but the math portion...it was like being in 8th grade again. I started getting really nervous and was expecting Mrs. Thompson to present me with my test with a fat F on the top. By the end of the test, most of the basic algebra had come back to me, but I could never be a scientist of any sorts. Or a math teacher, for that matter.

I am talking to Katie about sex, and how there comes a point at which a boy's mum affects his sexual habits. It's all very Oedipal. Aaron is a momma's boy, so he relies on dominant, controlling woman. Katie's boy has no self-esteem because his mom was an alcoholic who told him he was worthless.

Sometimes Aaron and I talk about sex, but usually the extent of the conversation is, we don't have enough sex, and then we have sex, and it's ok again. That's nice. (Sorry Mum).

Aaron went to a job interview today and he starts work next week on a trial basis at one of those places that's so hip, it's impossible to find. It's in a random alley in North Beach, but he's going to be a lead cook, so it's all good. Mike and I hung out in the alley during the interview, and I felt like a hoodlum. Afterwards, he took us to a pub where we had Irish eggs benedict and bloody marys and my tum is still a little pissed off at me. As soon as I got back to the house, I put on the Family Ties marathon and completely crashed. I hadn't taken a nap in a very long time, and that is unfortunate.

Everyone is telling me to find a job, but all of the jobs are in hiding. So Back. Off.

one year ago today: "i don't understand our relationship. at. all."

two years ago today: "i really, really, really am trying to care but ... no." and "i used to think i would go to hell if i didn't capitalize god's name."

three years ago today: nothin.

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About me
Hi. Morgan, 27, of Santa Barbara, CA. I am a hypocritical admirer of rhetoric (when it is my own) and an observer of literary trends. A secret: I don't take anything very seriously, and that includes myself.