March 30, 2002
Fuck you Penis Possessors
Apologize profusely for the neglect. Work is kicking my ass as usual.
So Justin the busboy asked for my e-mail address last night. And I gave it to him, after much taunting that I might not. Guess what is the most charming piece of news.
He's a highschool senior.
Whip out the noose, throw it around my neck, and string me up. Why, why can't I ever gain the attention of someone I could have a legitimate relationship with? Why? Not only is Justin young, he also laughed when he saw I was reading a book. He hates books. He hates English. And I have a feeling he is a drinker.
So what the hell does he want with me?
But he's a nice guy. I'm not going to blow him off. But if I am going to date again, I want it to be for someone special. Someone who surprises me with their proper grammer use. Someone who is surprised by me.
Instead of someone who, while being obviously interested in me, still thinks I'm a dork.
I am a dork. Hence my desire to date another one.
It's just ridiculous. I do not want to get involved at all with him, and the main reason is because he reminds me too much of Ryan. He would be nice and funny and we'd get along fine, but he would never take anything I do seriously. The important, artistic things about me would be ignored. And that's who I am when you erase everything else that is insubstantial or mutable. I am a writer and a big-word-user and a metaphor factory. I enjoy being this way.
And I like him, and I don't want to hurt his feelings. So we are just going to chalk it up to him being younger than me and hope that he is mature enough to not be offended or weird at work.
Excuse me while I cross my fingers and toes and intestines.
I hate boys. I really do. They either fucking like me because of my ass or don't notice that I have one.
All I ask is to find a poet. He doesn't even have to be any good. Just the simple fact that he indulges in his emotions or, fuck, admits that he has them.
What am I going to do?
astera at 3:06 p.m.