Bitter, Table For One

Oh, hi. Angst alert!

Instead of throwing myself back into the oven-like KF for Kano, I met Trendvickster way uptown for a going away party for some of her classmates. She had me expecting a rager, but it was definitely on the adult dinner party tip with homemade food all over. The hosts were a couple that met in the program and are now moving together to make a new life out of state. I'd met the guy before briefly and he seemed like the typical good-looking wild boy sort -- a dime a dozen here in town, so it was surprising to see the buttoned-up, respectable transformation. I almost didn't recognize him. The pair was like an old married couple yet are around my age. Things like that are frightening, fascinating, and melancholy inducing for me. Once upon a time, that was me and it feels like a lifetime ago.

This summer has me always thinking of my utter fuckups. 2005 has been like 50 car pile up on the highway. I need my pheromone receptors totally recalibrated because it's starting to seem like if there's some element of bad news involved, I'm led straight to it. In my world, there's apparently no one who isn't an asshole and/or cheater. Not even mentioning under 30 and a non-druggie. I might very well be an asshole, but I'm none of those other things, so do I need to go knit or something in order to apparently avoid every toxic person/place/thing I know?

I think the sorta sick thing is that every friend I have who like me isn't some globe-trotting, living their life by the seat of their pants, laissez-faire sort (I'm leaving out a pretty obvious descriptor, but they know what I mean) is in exactly the same boat as me. We've been running our little rat race and are all respectable and shit. Where's our goddamned cheese? I'm totally jealous of those who seems to just meet cool new prospects without any sort of hassle. How the fuck do they do it? I fucking hate the Farmers and Linas and Tinos and Alexs who can't go a second without someone new (just like the one before) waiting to snap them up every second. Apparently, it's too much for me to ask to have the liberty of meeting someone who is from where I'm from and likes the things I like and would like me. It's a catch-22 to know that you're not going to meet anyone waiting at home for them to knock on your door, but getting kicked around so much out there that you just want to hide out for a bit. I've had to be sorta irreverent my methodology to simply not shrivel up and die, so I have the distinction among those I know of getting most of the rewards and the penalties. You're really damned if you do, and damned if you don't.

I'm expecting a gift to fall from the sky any day now. I deserve it.


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This page contains a single entry by Candicissima published on August 14, 2005 4:47 PM.

I Stay Dipped, I Stay Laced, And I Know You Know I'm Fly was the previous entry in this blog.

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