Our Lives are in a Dialogue, Our Body is a Wonderland
Still one of my favorite wall-postings, and I still miss Matt. Whomp Whomp.
But can we still be friends, seriously?
SMOG:
Signal
Mirror
Over-the-Shoulder
Go!
So I'm in Texas. I got in a fender-bender (my fault... I didn't S.M.O.G. but rather, I S.M.G.ed... plus I was listening to "Jessie's Girl." Whoops. No major damage done to either car. In fact, she kept asking ME if I was okay and saying "they're just cars.").
I feel bad about myself. Surprise.
I can't stop watching the Man in the Iron Mask.
And I can't stop thinking about people who don't deserve my attention. Especially after that last wall-posting left by the previous girl (and by that I mean the girl prior to me. Now, there have apparently been many girls before and after me, but she got to borrow his sweatshirt and I didn't and I wonder if this means she's lasting. How does she do it? I mean, she watched him kiss me!!! I still kind of want him, don't get me wrong, but it will never be the same having watched him kiss someone else! We're just two very different people--him and I and I guess her and I.).
So what am I saying? I'm saying that I guess it's a good thing I don't let people do shitty things, like treating me like shit, or said man-slut's recent escapades. Ask anyone, I don't. Or at least I try so hard not to. But then (in the case of... so many assholes I've loved) I miss them. THAT PART ISN'T SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN! I'm not supposed to be the one who wants to take you back as a friend (or more), damnit!!! But I do, and I see that now, especially.
Why can't I just meet a nice boy, perhaps dancing at the Spoke, who doesn't want to say creepy things (see below) and ONLY WANTS TO MESS AROUND WITH ME!?!?! When do I start being special to someone?
Creepy thing: At the Spoke, dancing with this weird man (probably about the age of most of our parents, which is not uncommon, but is fine because they act fatherly and usually try to protect us from sleazes). This man is different; first of all, he looks like my friend's dead dad and that is uncomfortable, but he's also freaking me out a little. He keeps telling me how beautiful I am (I know that, Sir), and how I'm just as good as any of the other girls out there (I didn't say I wasn't, Sir), and how I'm a fine dancer and shouldn't worry (I should hope so, Sir), and how he wishes he was still in college (Do you have a time machine, Sir?). And then, we're bumping in to a lot of other couples (again, not uncommon on a crowded dance floor) and he says "everyone's DNA is on everybody else. Nobody could ever prove anything." Like that's supposed to be just a casual part of conversation! I was really scared for a minute, but I finished out the dance. About an hour later, he asked again. I said "sure" because it's awkward to say no in that situation... but then he started talking about my age (surprised I wasn't in my mid-twenties, but that I'm actually 20). He told me about his 24 year old daughter and said that "all us girls" were so "precious." For a minute, I felt better, thinking that he was going into "fatherly mode" like so many of the other gentlemen (notice that word, they mostly are) at the Spoke. Instead, he followed with "does anybody love you?" To which I replied that I was sure my dad and my sisters, at least, did. And he said "do they kiss your little bottom when they change your diaper?" which still makes me very uncomfortable to think about. I said "HEY! NO, LISTEN TO ME! HEY! Do you talk to your daughter like that? DO YOU SAY THAT TO YOUR DAUGHTER? Think of me like that, you can't act this way! I am her age; I am like her." And he said that he DID talk to her like that "all the time" and he let go of my hands and left. I had a good time dancing that night, but that is the worst memory I think I've ever had at the Spoke. Including the time I got sunburned and oozed on my shirt.
BTW, I'm sunburned again. Yep, one SXSW day show for an hour outside in an alley and I get a burn. Huzzah! The best part is I'm almost positive I won't tan. Great. I better get some freckles out of this.
I'm going running. I miss Hunter. Or anybody who is a decent guy. What happened to them, or did I just not realize there weren't really any?
But can we still be friends, seriously?
SMOG:
Signal
Mirror
Over-the-Shoulder
Go!
So I'm in Texas. I got in a fender-bender (my fault... I didn't S.M.O.G. but rather, I S.M.G.ed... plus I was listening to "Jessie's Girl." Whoops. No major damage done to either car. In fact, she kept asking ME if I was okay and saying "they're just cars.").
I feel bad about myself. Surprise.
I can't stop watching the Man in the Iron Mask.
And I can't stop thinking about people who don't deserve my attention. Especially after that last wall-posting left by the previous girl (and by that I mean the girl prior to me. Now, there have apparently been many girls before and after me, but she got to borrow his sweatshirt and I didn't and I wonder if this means she's lasting. How does she do it? I mean, she watched him kiss me!!! I still kind of want him, don't get me wrong, but it will never be the same having watched him kiss someone else! We're just two very different people--him and I and I guess her and I.).
So what am I saying? I'm saying that I guess it's a good thing I don't let people do shitty things, like treating me like shit, or said man-slut's recent escapades. Ask anyone, I don't. Or at least I try so hard not to. But then (in the case of... so many assholes I've loved) I miss them. THAT PART ISN'T SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN! I'm not supposed to be the one who wants to take you back as a friend (or more), damnit!!! But I do, and I see that now, especially.
Why can't I just meet a nice boy, perhaps dancing at the Spoke, who doesn't want to say creepy things (see below) and ONLY WANTS TO MESS AROUND WITH ME!?!?! When do I start being special to someone?
Creepy thing: At the Spoke, dancing with this weird man (probably about the age of most of our parents, which is not uncommon, but is fine because they act fatherly and usually try to protect us from sleazes). This man is different; first of all, he looks like my friend's dead dad and that is uncomfortable, but he's also freaking me out a little. He keeps telling me how beautiful I am (I know that, Sir), and how I'm just as good as any of the other girls out there (I didn't say I wasn't, Sir), and how I'm a fine dancer and shouldn't worry (I should hope so, Sir), and how he wishes he was still in college (Do you have a time machine, Sir?). And then, we're bumping in to a lot of other couples (again, not uncommon on a crowded dance floor) and he says "everyone's DNA is on everybody else. Nobody could ever prove anything." Like that's supposed to be just a casual part of conversation! I was really scared for a minute, but I finished out the dance. About an hour later, he asked again. I said "sure" because it's awkward to say no in that situation... but then he started talking about my age (surprised I wasn't in my mid-twenties, but that I'm actually 20). He told me about his 24 year old daughter and said that "all us girls" were so "precious." For a minute, I felt better, thinking that he was going into "fatherly mode" like so many of the other gentlemen (notice that word, they mostly are) at the Spoke. Instead, he followed with "does anybody love you?" To which I replied that I was sure my dad and my sisters, at least, did. And he said "do they kiss your little bottom when they change your diaper?" which still makes me very uncomfortable to think about. I said "HEY! NO, LISTEN TO ME! HEY! Do you talk to your daughter like that? DO YOU SAY THAT TO YOUR DAUGHTER? Think of me like that, you can't act this way! I am her age; I am like her." And he said that he DID talk to her like that "all the time" and he let go of my hands and left. I had a good time dancing that night, but that is the worst memory I think I've ever had at the Spoke. Including the time I got sunburned and oozed on my shirt.
BTW, I'm sunburned again. Yep, one SXSW day show for an hour outside in an alley and I get a burn. Huzzah! The best part is I'm almost positive I won't tan. Great. I better get some freckles out of this.
I'm going running. I miss Hunter. Or anybody who is a decent guy. What happened to them, or did I just not realize there weren't really any?