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.
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