Like Yooou, A Girl Like Yooou
So yes, I went drinking again, and the bender continues. And thanks to this longer pay period I am more of "le broke," more so than I thought I'd be. I haven't even bought my New Year's Eve artillery. Sigh.
Today I have to go to the grocery store and buy some food, both human and dog form. Perhaps I'll get a yummy deli sandwich.
My friend Katie and I are involved in phone tag. I just didn't pick up the two times she's called me-- first because I was still asleep, and second because I have an inkling hanging out is going to include something with Dolores Park, the Mission, or Haight.
Speaking more generally, I just conjure up visions of everyone returning from the holidays and everything being back to normal: the same people, the same good times, the same michief, and the same bullshit drama, and the same bullshit gossip that attaches itself to everything else, almost parasitically. I feel like everything will be normal again, except for me: I've definitely changed.
This stupid month has seriously affected me in ways I can't even explicate. I feel old though. Too old for "the same." I don't know, perhaps I'm wrong and this is just a mood, but I think I should make new friends and meet new people. I love my friends, but I feel disconnected from them and I don't know why. I don't even know if this disconnect is actual, or just a product of fiction from a mind whose social judgments are askew. I seriously have no clue what exactly is amiss. My speculation is that over a month ago the "same" would have been great-- it would have felt like home. And now it feels like a waste of my time, and I'm having fun going to out of the way places with my friends that actually WANT to go out and try new places, sometimes solely for the fact that we know everyone else won't release their chains impressed with "The Hemlock," "Molotov's," and other places. It's fun predicting peoples' laziness and capitalizing your fun off it. But that's just me getting temporary kicks, that's not a recipe for good times, and it certainly doesn't feel like home. Sigh.
I want sausages. Not the cheapo links (although those are good), but the thicker, more gourmet kind. It will be done. (Heh heh, Kids in the Hall: SAUSAGES!)
Today I have to go to the grocery store and buy some food, both human and dog form. Perhaps I'll get a yummy deli sandwich.
My friend Katie and I are involved in phone tag. I just didn't pick up the two times she's called me-- first because I was still asleep, and second because I have an inkling hanging out is going to include something with Dolores Park, the Mission, or Haight.
Speaking more generally, I just conjure up visions of everyone returning from the holidays and everything being back to normal: the same people, the same good times, the same michief, and the same bullshit drama, and the same bullshit gossip that attaches itself to everything else, almost parasitically. I feel like everything will be normal again, except for me: I've definitely changed.
This stupid month has seriously affected me in ways I can't even explicate. I feel old though. Too old for "the same." I don't know, perhaps I'm wrong and this is just a mood, but I think I should make new friends and meet new people. I love my friends, but I feel disconnected from them and I don't know why. I don't even know if this disconnect is actual, or just a product of fiction from a mind whose social judgments are askew. I seriously have no clue what exactly is amiss. My speculation is that over a month ago the "same" would have been great-- it would have felt like home. And now it feels like a waste of my time, and I'm having fun going to out of the way places with my friends that actually WANT to go out and try new places, sometimes solely for the fact that we know everyone else won't release their chains impressed with "The Hemlock," "Molotov's," and other places. It's fun predicting peoples' laziness and capitalizing your fun off it. But that's just me getting temporary kicks, that's not a recipe for good times, and it certainly doesn't feel like home. Sigh.
I want sausages. Not the cheapo links (although those are good), but the thicker, more gourmet kind. It will be done. (Heh heh, Kids in the Hall: SAUSAGES!)