Sunday, February 10, 2008

More New Years

I love the timing of the Chinese New Year because it kind of reminds you that yep, you had some high hopes for this year, and here you are pissing life away as usual. Now think about them again; celebrate again. More pissing, but with renewed focus.

My forecast for this year of the rat says I'm going to have an "excellent" year, which makes me happy. It says I'll have some awesome "social times" in August, November, and December, which gives me plenty of time to rest up. It's been real...

Dicey, drunken, who knows. I forced My Friend to have Chinese New Year dinner with me, after which we got tremendously drunk at a lame grad student's event. The funnest guy I met there was a physicist. There was this other funny guy but he was wearing these pants that you can pretty much interpret in one way:

I am so cool that I can wear the most hideous things imaginable. In fact, were I to try and look good, I might be so unbelievably awesome that it would frighten you. So, I try to make myself look like an asshole, to protect you from my awesomeness. You can thank me by pretending not to notice my ugly pants.

We left the lame grad students to go play free pool where My Friend lives, at the International House. I was drunk and speaking freely about my (current lack of a) sex life, and my confusing fear and love of men.

After about 12 beverages, I found myself Friendlessly walking to get food with two guys whose names I did not know. That's when I ran away. It was kind of under the guise of catching a train, but there was no train. When I woke up the next morning, there was a Happy Meal in my kitchen.

Last night we celebrated keeten's birthday. Muffin made a delicious dinner and then we got all sweaty at Love. I haven't danced in forever, and it made me happy. I've known us for a while now, and there aren't many other people with whom I'd rather spend an evening dancing and playing toxicology.

I love weed because it's so communal. Even if you choose not to directly partake, it hangs in the air and creates a shared scent, a shared space, and now that I don't smoke it constantly, it mellows me out immediately. I love booze because everything seems a simpler when you're drunk. While pot renders most decisions and procedures extremely complimicated, questions of morality, loyalty, and price are much more manageable after several drinks. The only things I don't like about booze is this gut it's given me, and my tendency to overindulge and have a horrible next day. But this is why I love coke. Not only is it so easy and transportable, but you can tell almost immediately if you've had too much, and it's such a clean high, little residue to eke into the next day...

The weird combination of all those substances in my body...particularly the coffee and the 45 minutes of cab-induced anxiety, put me in a fabulous mood. It was a good time, and there I decided that it was time to pop my NY hymen with the non-threatening kid who was dancing with me after spilling my drink. I went to meet up with him after we all kind of disbanded. He was a sweet guy and waited for me outside the club he was at, and there I kind of checked him out in the street light and had the familiar thought, "Oh god, is this going to be like fucking a child?"

I don't know why I am initially so attracted to younger guys, if I just don't want them in the end. I actually feel physically repulsed when I imagine having sex with them. We were outside the club, waiting to get back in, with the idea that we would have another drink or two, keep our dance on, and then go back to my apartment, but suddenly the thought of fucking him sent this nauseating wave down through my gut and stayed there, and I stepped out of line and took another $30 cab ride home. He called to see if I wanted to hang out today. I don't remember anything about him. Probably not. How bored am I? I guess I just worry that I will meet up with him and leave feeling like an asshole. But that's in my control. I should just go, have fun.

I'm not trying to understand this. All I know is that some nights, like last night, I dig out one of my favorite shirts to sleep in, one of my Ex's grey Hanes undershirts, and I fall asleep thinking of him.

Things were so much simpler when I knew that love was enough of a reason to make things work.

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