My night has been fan-fucking-tabulous. Watching Fantasia completely stoned out of my mind. When was the last time I allowed my fantasy to get swept away? Fab. I'm going to change the title to Faptasia and get swept away. That was gross.
It's funny how I allow myself to get worked up over the simplest shit but, how about you let Auntie PJ tell you a story?
It all started last Friday. I was running late for the pleasure party I had been invited to at a friend's house. I had gone home after work to get high and change and then head over to the party. I didn't want to go empty handed to the party (as I had promised to make brownies... which I never got around to actually making), so I stopped by a gas station and ran in to buy beer; grabbed two six packs of beer and was about to check out the munchie section when I scanned a semi-recognizable rather cute guy in the checkout line. I got in line right behind him and decided to forgo the munchies.
Turns out we had gone to school together, he was a year or two younger. He's a bit preppy nerdy (which I could get in to), but what sealed the deal for me was the fact that he was buying an apple. Which he was not intending on eating. Match made in stoner heaven.
He paid for his things and we parted ways. In the back of my mind I thought he was cute and endearing, witty and something obviously piqued my interest. The only problem was that I didn't know his name. Thus I couldn't stalk him. I couldn't add him on Facebook. I could only hope that he was more determined than my half-assed effort.
He added me on Facebook tonight.
He must be into crazy, addicted alcoholic stoners.
The booty call is still in the picture, but why? Yesterday we whispered drunken nothings into our cellphones, after parting ways at the first bar I visited on Monday evening. He was waiting for some friends and I had already scored my weed, so I was ready to go outsies. Working all day had left me exhausted and I was feeling odd in my Lesbian Power Mommy issued clothes (Now with more brown leather loafers!). Got a call from Frida who wanted to go out and suddenly I was tired no more.
I bid the booty call g'bye, mentioned I was going to a bar on the other side of town. He was apologetic about not being able to leave, but I didn't really care. The thing about us is that the less we see each other, the better the sex, everything. The dynamics. We go through these moments where we see each other continuously for three, four days and then we burn out and we go back to not really wanting to see each other, or making the effort necessary to meet up. Things are always forced with him, they never flow freely and always require planning. Nothing spontaneous.
I've decided that I need to be single for my birthday. Sans commitments.
I don't want a "because I have to/because I should" type of love. I treat you right, but I expect nothing in return. I also treat you right, but I don't invest myself in you, and I don't believe you. Your words are empty half the time. You keep explaining, apologizing why this, why that. That we "should" make this official. This? What? This is nothing and can we possibly make it even less complicated. This just is, but it is nothing.
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