June 20, 2002
Not Thinking
Curses. Fire and Fucking Brimstone.
I think I really like Ian.
I think he really likes me.
So he loans me his Travis CD and I sort of listen to it constantly and think soft little thoughts about him.
So I loaned him Alanis' first CD and he sort of listened to it constantly at work and thought about me.
He's so perfect and adorable. And I'm so not good enough for him.
I wish I could get over being awkward with him. I wish I could get over wishing. I cannot explain myself. I want two things: one and its exact opposite. I think that we can't be together-together because of everything, and wish it were different; while at the same time being grateful that we can't be together-together because I'm too nervous and naive and neurotic.
I'm not going to talk about it anymore. Slap me if I do.
Where are you? I am starting to get rather worried. No updates. No instant messages. I hope you are alright and nothing horrible has happened. How ever would I know?
Ok, so I just emailed one of your friends seeing as I still have not recieved a reply to the email I sent to you. Maybe you are on vacation.
I finished Abigail's mix, though both its quality and selection are likely not up to par with the mix she is sending me. My poor sad record collection and its sparse offerings.
I rediscovered Finger Eleven, and that 'Tip' is still a bad-ass album. Am currently downloading the video for 'Above,' fond memories of weekends at Mallory's resurfacing. The joys of Trashy Movie Night and sitting on the lawn contemplating throwing rocks at the drunk people, most notably those few who we were attracted to at the time...
Kels and I continued our work on the tarot cards today, pausing more than briefly to watch Labyrinth. I have only one thing to say: David Bowie's pants. Way too tight.
One day we're going to paly the Labyrinth drinking game, like, in roughly a year and a half when I can buy alcohol. Anybody game for an evening of a drink for every time Jareth changes clothes, two drinks for when he's wearing white?
As soon as she sends me the cards we have completed, I am going to put them up on my deviantart account, which has been sadly neglected these past few weeks. I haven't been feeling very inspired, and instead quite grouchy. I'm anxious to submit my photography, while at the same time sure that the pictures would amuse only myself and those close to me.
We'll see.
Who am I not thinking about? That's right. Not Ian.
My little Peter Pan/Robin Hood toy on my desk is clutching the flower Ian gave to me from his mother's garden.
Argh.
astera at 12:01 a.m.