you could almost respect me except for that second one
Break is wonderful except for being busy, whilst I should be sitting idly on the couch. All details are boring... What did I do today? Scrapbooked an entire semester, started three books, sent an unprecedented number of emails, was unexplainably starving and ate everything in sight, worked out...sort of, and, well, that's that.
I moved into wonderful Dumas, a stone throw's away from FAB and downtown bars. I never realized all the baggage I've been carrying with me this year, until I had to schlep it all across campus. Then there's the issue of moving it all again to East Campus in August.
I'm really worried that my latest, I dunno what you'd call it --one regular datee and series of innocent flirtations??, is going to permanently jade me against romance. This dialogue is playing in my head:
1: I think that this one might be "the one."
2: What do you mean "the one"? The one you'll finally commit to?
1: No... More like the one that will completely disillusion me and make me a hollowed out shell of a human being.
I mean, I wasn't sure if I could get more cynical. It's not true, I can probably only get more pathetic. Have you ever noticed that when men get their hearts broken it's sweet and poignant, with a noble connotation weighed in, but when women get their hearts broken, it's just sad and pathetic and we laugh at them as they order in their chinese food for one and hang out with their cats? Well, fuck that. You know, I was perfectly happy without a sig this entire year, except for a brief but embarassing incident in September. But until this has undermined my effort and it frustrates me because I keep thinking that no man or series of men should have control over my opinions and feelings like this. It's just too dangerous. And then I get to thinking, am I really living my life, according my instincts and desires if I DON'T let them get into my heart? Why should I deny myself simply to have the upperhand? I only hold my feelings and actions back to tilt the playing game in my favor, to keep the mystery and not appear too available, but is it helping? It appears not and it appears I'm only setting myself up to be hurt once again. I'd like to say I'm not going to be serious about anything this summer, so that I can get back into my proper priorities, but we'll see what happens...
I'm ready for summer. I've pledged to lose weight with the help of my good friend Leah, because I want to be in better shape cardiovascularly (is this a word?), I want to be able to run a 5K competitively, and I want to look damn good at my brother's wedding. Groomsmen have an obligation to hook up with single bridesmaids, right? I'm going to miss a lot of friends who are home, but hopefully I'll see them regularly this summer. :-)
Summer reading list, thus far:
Cat's Eye- Margaret Atwood
The Da Vinci Code (special illustrated edition)- Dan Brown
The Second Sex- Simone DeBeauvoir
The Great Gatsby- F. Scott Fitzgerald
The Kite Runner- Khaled Hosseini
Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance- Robert Pirsig
Breakfast of Champions- Kurt Vonnegut
Cat's Cradle- Kurt Vonnegut
I am Charlotte Simmons - Tom Wolfe
And finish:
Catch 22- Joseph Heller
Mrs. Dalloway- Virginia Woolf
Mansfield Park- Jane Austen
Yeah, you could almost respect me except for that second one...
I moved into wonderful Dumas, a stone throw's away from FAB and downtown bars. I never realized all the baggage I've been carrying with me this year, until I had to schlep it all across campus. Then there's the issue of moving it all again to East Campus in August.
I'm really worried that my latest, I dunno what you'd call it --one regular datee and series of innocent flirtations??, is going to permanently jade me against romance. This dialogue is playing in my head:
1: I think that this one might be "the one."
2: What do you mean "the one"? The one you'll finally commit to?
1: No... More like the one that will completely disillusion me and make me a hollowed out shell of a human being.
I mean, I wasn't sure if I could get more cynical. It's not true, I can probably only get more pathetic. Have you ever noticed that when men get their hearts broken it's sweet and poignant, with a noble connotation weighed in, but when women get their hearts broken, it's just sad and pathetic and we laugh at them as they order in their chinese food for one and hang out with their cats? Well, fuck that. You know, I was perfectly happy without a sig this entire year, except for a brief but embarassing incident in September. But until this has undermined my effort and it frustrates me because I keep thinking that no man or series of men should have control over my opinions and feelings like this. It's just too dangerous. And then I get to thinking, am I really living my life, according my instincts and desires if I DON'T let them get into my heart? Why should I deny myself simply to have the upperhand? I only hold my feelings and actions back to tilt the playing game in my favor, to keep the mystery and not appear too available, but is it helping? It appears not and it appears I'm only setting myself up to be hurt once again. I'd like to say I'm not going to be serious about anything this summer, so that I can get back into my proper priorities, but we'll see what happens...
I'm ready for summer. I've pledged to lose weight with the help of my good friend Leah, because I want to be in better shape cardiovascularly (is this a word?), I want to be able to run a 5K competitively, and I want to look damn good at my brother's wedding. Groomsmen have an obligation to hook up with single bridesmaids, right? I'm going to miss a lot of friends who are home, but hopefully I'll see them regularly this summer. :-)
Summer reading list, thus far:
Cat's Eye- Margaret Atwood
The Da Vinci Code (special illustrated edition)- Dan Brown
The Second Sex- Simone DeBeauvoir
The Great Gatsby- F. Scott Fitzgerald
The Kite Runner- Khaled Hosseini
Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance- Robert Pirsig
Breakfast of Champions- Kurt Vonnegut
Cat's Cradle- Kurt Vonnegut
I am Charlotte Simmons - Tom Wolfe
And finish:
Catch 22- Joseph Heller
Mrs. Dalloway- Virginia Woolf
Mansfield Park- Jane Austen
Yeah, you could almost respect me except for that second one...