I just went on a date with The Musician (yes, it is capitalized). We went for some nice reliable pizza. I was the carnivorous one who ate three slices of pizza and called it quits. Umm, yeah small please. This is the second day in a row where we hang together. I do find him cute and appealing. Yes, isn't that a fantastically bland word to describe someone? Appealing? He's quiet and introverted and an incredibly gifted musician, smart and kind of geeky cool. I'm liking everything so far, what can I say. He seems kind of safe and reliable. I wonder if he's sweet, the touchy feely type. I need contact, I realize this now, but my relationships need to include some sort of PDA. I am comforted by a soft hand on my leg, fingers on the neck, cupping of my lower back. He's got this quiet, dry sense of humor, slightly offbeat.

Me gusta.

I'll go to sleep and dream of you,

put me to sleep with a lullaby and

find me in the clouds.

'I am not ok' she said while smiling a valiantly white bright grin, her teeth shining, ivory tusks embedded in pink gum.

'I never thought you were'

'But... no one is OK. Point me to someone who is OK and I will show you a wall built of paper cranes'

'So, you're the philosophizer now that you've tried acid.'

'Oh, you're a fucking idiot. Expand your mind it might due your brain some good. Stuck in that room all the time, get the fuck out! You're driving yourself crazy and by consequence you're driving ME crazy!'

Eyes offended, hurt, he looks at her, barely knows her anymore.

'You've changed' he says, his voice hiding a break in the vocals.

'Everyone does.'

I changed my sheets and you are now replaced and forgotten, your scent disappearing behind a cloudful of lavender scented Lysol. Pppppppppppppppfffffffffffftttttttttttttttttttt and goodbye.

The Musician happened into my life about a month or two ago. He plays the guitar, is incredibly introverted, but when he does bring out his self to play he's a lot of fun, surprisingly so. Very intuitive and sensitive, but at the same time kind of insecure and unsure of himself. He's so quiet people often forget they have met him time and time again. Until they see him on-stage and then he is remembered, engraved into the medulla oblongata, part of an exploding synapse somewhere in the left brain.

I'm dumping the booty call. I'm tired of the games and it's not really working for me. I thought I needed a bit of drama in my life but I am recalling that idea now. No, no drama.

El Club de Los Corazones Rotos. Maybe that could be the name of our band? We'd make really sad, slightly depressing music. Bittersweet tunes that move and console you. Bring you to tears and wipe them away and cuddle you. Sad Panda.

I had decided to call it off with the booty call. I was too emotionally involved, I was bound to get hurt. Nothing was clear, everything was blurry. Things got tangled, we tangled. I've been getting some off phonecalls from numbers I don't recognize. I thought for a fleeting second it was the booty call being funny, calling me and saying naughty things over the phone. I also got them as text messages. I decided to call him and ask him pointblank if it was him making the phone calls from an unidentified number, He said it wasn't and I believe him. Why do I still believe him after all of this? he has proven he isn't trustworthy, yet somehow I keep giving him more chances. When will I learn? He said he missed me, he always thinks of me. I always think of him as well, how can I not? He's been a part of my life on and off for the past 9 months. As much as I tried to keep him at an arm's length, he has found a way of infiltrating himself into my life and now it's so hard to extirpate him. I don't even know if I want to anymore.

Aural Orgasm

Salem - King Night from Sean Michael Pheanis on Vimeo

I absolutely fucking hate American Apparel's classic girl. Classic according to who? An 80's WASP advertisement?

This guy who I believe might be interested in me (and I say might because we've hung out a couple of times, and by hung out I mean listened to music and gotten stratosphericly high) called me just now to see what I was up to. I think he might have been trying to invite himself over, but I'm not really in the mood to hang out with anyone tonight so I dodged that self invite.

I usually don't mind people coming over and chilling, but it might be a bit weird because he's going to be travelling with the same rock band that the booty call is in this weekend. They're going to a different state that is eight hours away and I am kind of hoping my name doesn't come up, 'cause how awkward would that be?

Is it terrible that I am seeing a slew of different men? Keeping my options wide open. But not my legs 'cause I'm trying to be a proper bitch, not a 'ho bag bitch.

The Frenchman has been calling me at least once a day if not more. We chat about work, about golddiggers, about roommates. What the hell is going on? Je nais cest pas, but I am finding it enjoyable in some odd way. I absolutely love getting into these sorts of situations, eh? Internet affairs that go nowhere. Hey, do you live 30,000 km away? Why don't we start this incredibly meaningful Internet relationship where we'll both get frustrated, mistrustful and end up hating each other? Sounds like a fab idea! Count me in!

I'm sorta shaking the grey cloud that has been haunting my ass since last Friday. By sort of shaking I mean I haven't cried today (but then again, it's still early).

Blargh.