Tuesday, August 31, 2004
See That Awesome Dude? He's my friend. Yeah, that's right...I know that guy.
I had a good night yesterday, though I seem to be falling back into this "recording my every breath" trend again as the excitement mounts towards school beginning again. This was concreted as bubbling enthusiasm when I returned to school yesterday for miscallaneous things, like buying sloan ticket, bus pass, and seeing le papier people. And S.U. people. Pardon me as I avoid eye contact and lunge in and out of rooms for free coffee like a drugged humming bird. I wasn't feeling talkative for some reason. But...I can't write this all at work, so I'll finish later.
Here we go: Yes, being at the le papier offices was fun, but also, awkward as usual. Whenever I wear a new outfit (ok, as new as VV can be) I am uncomfortable. Compound this with people I'm uncomfortable around, and I tend to zone them out so my mind doesn't go crazy with self analysis. It wears, ok? (puntastic). So yes, superficial mindless drivel, here I come. Abscond with me so that I may be vapid too!
In the midst of peeking around me and talking to few people, hiding by a Mac like a troll, I managed to write up an article. Anxiety is the devil's plaything. It was very hastily written, (4:45 - 6:00 =go time) and perhaps a little on the strongly forceful chest-thumping side, and *cough* ranty, but there were some things in there that I have been thinking about for a while. And besides, if Jake gets away with rants, so should I be able to as well. And his was a rant. Enjoyable, but still ranty. Really though, le papier is as le papier does, and I was happy to see everyone, but sort of more excited at the time to go to Dabar and the writing meeting, avec Fenton. Plus, it took me like twenty minutes to manhandle that Mac into doing anything I wanted with my saved document. I hate MacIntosh. But, writing club! It was a dreamy prospect. And it still is awesome, if not "dreamy" any longer.
A very entrancing crowd of people. You could see enigma (what, is that like glaucoma?) in every single set of eyes. Interesting thing though: shy with writers at le papier...Not shy at all with members in writing club, some of which have been writing novels (and completed them) prior? Fucking odd. Frankly, I was a loud mouth, and by the end, mortified that I'd come across as a pretentious bitch, but I guess that remains to be seen.
Oh man...I've suddenly realized I may be pretentious. How does one cure oneself of being pretentious in case one is pretentious? Does someone who is pretentious know that they're pretentious, or are they oblivious to it? Are pretentious people repetitive of the word pretentious? It's all so character deflating I can't take it.
As far as the melodrama goes...SURPRISE!
"Your life, will become exciting on all fronts all at the same time, whether you want it to be or not."
I made that up. But it's true. The Russian phoned me today, and did everything short of declaring his love for me, despite the fact that I told him I was with Mr. Pink now. And I, super-ninny-fantastique told him I'd go for coffee with him, in a benign sort of way. Oh, loyal readers, I assure you, I have no desire to get back together with him. The only reason I was with the Russian to begin with was because his bottle of Smirnoff was quite large. However, now I am faced with what happens when (if?) I tell Mr. Pink that the Russian has been sniffing around. And yes, the whole Russian sniffing coffee thing is tomorrow. I think that should be ok though. Sure you say, it's tempting, because I haven't had a good bottle of smirnoff for seven months, but, alas, I have fallen for a non-alcoholic beverage: doesn't make me want to go, is healthy, and doesn't make my tongue feel nasty. I don't even care that the glass is currently full of ice and the maraschino is stuck in the bottom. It's so good.
That was the cheesiest analogy ever. It must be love. Actually, about the whole thing: I really realized the other day that though I'm better at being myself around mr. pink, I'm still neurotic a little bit (read: unable to tell if he cares as much about me as I do him, so I maybe lay it on a little thick and gauge from his reactions) I sit back and realize after the conversation all the awful things that I've said, but god help me, it's like I don't think hard enough before I open my mouth because I am so insecure about this. It doesn't make sense. Anyways, I gotta quit being a mental case, so I sort of pledged to myself that I would just forget we were "dating" in the sense of the word, and be buddy-tastic again. And so help me god, I will not be affectionate any longer until this is resolved. No phone affection whatsoever. This sounds mental, I know, but it will work, because I am my own genius.
¶ 2:14 PM
Here we go: Yes, being at the le papier offices was fun, but also, awkward as usual. Whenever I wear a new outfit (ok, as new as VV can be) I am uncomfortable. Compound this with people I'm uncomfortable around, and I tend to zone them out so my mind doesn't go crazy with self analysis. It wears, ok? (puntastic). So yes, superficial mindless drivel, here I come. Abscond with me so that I may be vapid too!
In the midst of peeking around me and talking to few people, hiding by a Mac like a troll, I managed to write up an article. Anxiety is the devil's plaything. It was very hastily written, (4:45 - 6:00 =go time) and perhaps a little on the strongly forceful chest-thumping side, and *cough* ranty, but there were some things in there that I have been thinking about for a while. And besides, if Jake gets away with rants, so should I be able to as well. And his was a rant. Enjoyable, but still ranty. Really though, le papier is as le papier does, and I was happy to see everyone, but sort of more excited at the time to go to Dabar and the writing meeting, avec Fenton. Plus, it took me like twenty minutes to manhandle that Mac into doing anything I wanted with my saved document. I hate MacIntosh. But, writing club! It was a dreamy prospect. And it still is awesome, if not "dreamy" any longer.
A very entrancing crowd of people. You could see enigma (what, is that like glaucoma?) in every single set of eyes. Interesting thing though: shy with writers at le papier...Not shy at all with members in writing club, some of which have been writing novels (and completed them) prior? Fucking odd. Frankly, I was a loud mouth, and by the end, mortified that I'd come across as a pretentious bitch, but I guess that remains to be seen.
Oh man...I've suddenly realized I may be pretentious. How does one cure oneself of being pretentious in case one is pretentious? Does someone who is pretentious know that they're pretentious, or are they oblivious to it? Are pretentious people repetitive of the word pretentious? It's all so character deflating I can't take it.
As far as the melodrama goes...SURPRISE!
"Your life, will become exciting on all fronts all at the same time, whether you want it to be or not."
I made that up. But it's true. The Russian phoned me today, and did everything short of declaring his love for me, despite the fact that I told him I was with Mr. Pink now. And I, super-ninny-fantastique told him I'd go for coffee with him, in a benign sort of way. Oh, loyal readers, I assure you, I have no desire to get back together with him. The only reason I was with the Russian to begin with was because his bottle of Smirnoff was quite large. However, now I am faced with what happens when (if?) I tell Mr. Pink that the Russian has been sniffing around. And yes, the whole Russian sniffing coffee thing is tomorrow. I think that should be ok though. Sure you say, it's tempting, because I haven't had a good bottle of smirnoff for seven months, but, alas, I have fallen for a non-alcoholic beverage: doesn't make me want to go, is healthy, and doesn't make my tongue feel nasty. I don't even care that the glass is currently full of ice and the maraschino is stuck in the bottom. It's so good.
That was the cheesiest analogy ever. It must be love. Actually, about the whole thing: I really realized the other day that though I'm better at being myself around mr. pink, I'm still neurotic a little bit (read: unable to tell if he cares as much about me as I do him, so I maybe lay it on a little thick and gauge from his reactions) I sit back and realize after the conversation all the awful things that I've said, but god help me, it's like I don't think hard enough before I open my mouth because I am so insecure about this. It doesn't make sense. Anyways, I gotta quit being a mental case, so I sort of pledged to myself that I would just forget we were "dating" in the sense of the word, and be buddy-tastic again. And so help me god, I will not be affectionate any longer until this is resolved. No phone affection whatsoever. This sounds mental, I know, but it will work, because I am my own genius.
¶ 2:14 PM
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