Wednesday, May 18, 2005
Dunderhead.
A friend summed up last week what would be the eventual outcome of this week halfway through.
“God Emerson, your life is such a soap opera.”
And it has returned to being thus, right out of the blue. It’s like it never goes away. I am destined to repeat the same mistakes at least three times each until I actually learn my lesson. Funnily enough, at least I’m realizing this, and thus becoming aware of the fact that I do it.
Vespa boy came to the poetry reading that never was, yesterday. I wasn’t nervous when I showed Fenton my poem. I did get nervous as soon as I ran into VB though, which is fucking odd. And then the tone was set for the night. Nervous, and disgusted with myself to the point where I got physically ill. That has never happened to me before, and with some thoughtful cheering up on the behalf of Fenton and WestJet, I realized that what was a small maturity gap between V B and I two years ago, is now an ocean. I can’t see the other side, he’s just that impossibly immature.
The good thing is, is that I haven’t done anything with him, and now definitely don’t intend to. I feel like shit about all of this, so save the “you bitchy wench” for in person. I guess I’ll just tell him the truth.
Meanwhile, I have to figure out a way to control the hormones. Holy crap. This blog has surpassed the norm of "embarrassing" lately.
As for relevent events, the poetry reading was rescheduled for next week. I was mildly dissapointed but I got over it. Next week is still good. And plus, I had an excellent coffee with many boys.
Btw: Fenton and WestJet were insufferably nice to VB. I was shocked, and madly grateful. ¶ 8:22 PM
“God Emerson, your life is such a soap opera.”
And it has returned to being thus, right out of the blue. It’s like it never goes away. I am destined to repeat the same mistakes at least three times each until I actually learn my lesson. Funnily enough, at least I’m realizing this, and thus becoming aware of the fact that I do it.
Vespa boy came to the poetry reading that never was, yesterday. I wasn’t nervous when I showed Fenton my poem. I did get nervous as soon as I ran into VB though, which is fucking odd. And then the tone was set for the night. Nervous, and disgusted with myself to the point where I got physically ill. That has never happened to me before, and with some thoughtful cheering up on the behalf of Fenton and WestJet, I realized that what was a small maturity gap between V B and I two years ago, is now an ocean. I can’t see the other side, he’s just that impossibly immature.
The good thing is, is that I haven’t done anything with him, and now definitely don’t intend to. I feel like shit about all of this, so save the “you bitchy wench” for in person. I guess I’ll just tell him the truth.
Meanwhile, I have to figure out a way to control the hormones. Holy crap. This blog has surpassed the norm of "embarrassing" lately.
As for relevent events, the poetry reading was rescheduled for next week. I was mildly dissapointed but I got over it. Next week is still good. And plus, I had an excellent coffee with many boys.
Btw: Fenton and WestJet were insufferably nice to VB. I was shocked, and madly grateful. ¶ 8:22 PM
