July 4, 2002
Los Pantalones
Independence Day, and I'll be heading off to work in about four hours. There doesn't seem to be much independence in that, does there?
Due to the amazingness of my date on Tuesday all of you missed out on the amazingness of my day. Not only did I get to see Kelsi and Cassy, I also got to see Clare, whom I hardly ever encounter. Proof that she is just the coolest:
In response to my saying I am the Angel of Darkness, and likely growling, "You're like the Angel of Darkness Bunny."
Said in a sweet voice to allay Cassy's distress, "Cassy, I know you're opposed to putting lip gloss on your face..."
We had a great time slathering Cassy with lip gloss and make-up and making her near-to-baring her breasts to the world. What can I say, the tarot is demanding.
Damn. I borrowed Moby's Play from my brother and it is wicked excellent. I think I may just have to flat out steal it.
So Michael called me yesterday whilst I was at work. So I called him back when I got home.
We talked for over an hour, wherein he informed me that I really surprised him when I asked him to kiss me. Well, he wasn't going to do it of his own volition now, was he? I feel like sighing. Deeply.
I said that I would understand if he didn't want to be involved with me because I'm going to be going to school, and he made it seem like it wasn't a big deal, that he just wouldn't get to see a whole lot of me. I don't know... I like him. But at the same time he is very intimidating. He's a few years older than me, a considerable amount more experienced than me, in just about everything, and he's such a smart-ass. And while I find that very appealing, it's also hard to think of responses that don't make me look like a total jack-ass. You know, more than usual. I suppose it's good that he is honest, and I don't have to worry about him lying to save my feelings. In that respect we are kindred spirits.
Alas, I had but a brief reverie of feeling wanted before lapsing into The Second Stage of Jill's Relationship Feelings: feeling silly and inferior. I haven't killed anything he has for me, not yet. He still seems to want to take me out again, and is still at least moderately interested in me.
I'll just keep thinking, likely for an interminable handful of weeks, that it will be an extremely thin line that I walk. One that my natural instincts will want to dance all the fuck over.
Go read this. That was a fun thought, too. I like the poem, but not the subject matter.
I'll see him today, if only briefly. I'm going to be awkward, I know I will. One thing I am grateful for: when I am frantically thinking of something to say, he always manages to say something equally as unrelated as I would've come up with.
Moby is bad ass. Hoorah.
astera at 11:01 a.m.