G.M.S.
So after days of losing sleep over fun, I finally ended the weekend in an anti-climactic way. I suppose it's fair enough it end that way since I need sleep; it's best to take a break and just renew.
I had a somewhat-happening weekend spending it with friends, but got a little disappointed towards late Saturday. I've avoided letting my insecurities get to me until last night. I point the blame at my G.M.S. (Gay Menstrual Syndrome), which begins to get symptomatic after having 5-6 hours over three consecutive nights, beginning with Thursday of this past week, for example. Anyway, I had this somewhat wonderful unofficial date on Friday night at First Friday on Abbot Kinney. The following night, Mr. Gold and I went to Le Petit Jardin on Robertson.
The reason for trying this French restaurant was that I really wanted to try the Frog Legs as an appetizer. It turns out that Frog Legs were an entree. And since I bought a bottle of red to accompany the Carré D'agneau (rack of lamb), I nixed the idea of having Frog Legs altogether. So this date starts off pretty well. I'm around really smart, artistic creative types, which intimidates me to no beyond. Note: these guys were philosophers and composers. I became a sell-out to make money after studying Law and Society instead of pursuing law school, so that already made me feel a bit out of place. A couple of hours later we head over to a West Hollywood for two birthday celebrations. The G.M.S. begins to set in at this point.
I truly felt the pretentiosness I was surrounded by and it was really getting to me - not by the people I was around earlier, but just the crowd. Wicked Witch Night at East/West. On top of that, I had to walk with the person I was out on a "date" with, and constantly see him check other guys out, while loudly expressing how cute they were. I know we are nothing official, but it's pretty inconsiderate to say this in front of me. I mean, at least have the decency to not make it obvious. Take me, for example, who checks guys out, but doesn't make it an obvious gesture. I think it just struck a nerve because the person he pointed out the most was someone I just truly don't like.
I honestly don't get people. I sometimes try to not swim against the current in these types of situations, but last night just proved to me that some (not all), non-L.A. "L.A. people" need to get off their high horse.
I had a somewhat-happening weekend spending it with friends, but got a little disappointed towards late Saturday. I've avoided letting my insecurities get to me until last night. I point the blame at my G.M.S. (Gay Menstrual Syndrome), which begins to get symptomatic after having 5-6 hours over three consecutive nights, beginning with Thursday of this past week, for example. Anyway, I had this somewhat wonderful unofficial date on Friday night at First Friday on Abbot Kinney. The following night, Mr. Gold and I went to Le Petit Jardin on Robertson.
The reason for trying this French restaurant was that I really wanted to try the Frog Legs as an appetizer. It turns out that Frog Legs were an entree. And since I bought a bottle of red to accompany the Carré D'agneau (rack of lamb), I nixed the idea of having Frog Legs altogether. So this date starts off pretty well. I'm around really smart, artistic creative types, which intimidates me to no beyond. Note: these guys were philosophers and composers. I became a sell-out to make money after studying Law and Society instead of pursuing law school, so that already made me feel a bit out of place. A couple of hours later we head over to a West Hollywood for two birthday celebrations. The G.M.S. begins to set in at this point.
I truly felt the pretentiosness I was surrounded by and it was really getting to me - not by the people I was around earlier, but just the crowd. Wicked Witch Night at East/West. On top of that, I had to walk with the person I was out on a "date" with, and constantly see him check other guys out, while loudly expressing how cute they were. I know we are nothing official, but it's pretty inconsiderate to say this in front of me. I mean, at least have the decency to not make it obvious. Take me, for example, who checks guys out, but doesn't make it an obvious gesture. I think it just struck a nerve because the person he pointed out the most was someone I just truly don't like.
I honestly don't get people. I sometimes try to not swim against the current in these types of situations, but last night just proved to me that some (not all), non-L.A. "L.A. people" need to get off their high horse.