I'm done
This semester is over. Tomorrow I turn in a couple of papers and it's complete. If only that were true. I need either some sort of internship or a Mass Comm Practicum (working on campus somewhere in my interest) in order to graduate next semester. I needed to talk to the person about this sooner. Damnit. I can only hope that things work out the way they always have in the past.
I met someone. Not recently, but we only just started becoming friends recently and I think she's an awesome. I want to call her vivacious. Last night I went out with her to Nashville and we had an adventure, and though I hate being around people, it was good. Went went to The Rutledge, an unusually clean, organized bar. The bands had started when we got there and she pretty much knew everyone, and I hated how awkward it was to stand around while they talked about shit that I had no idea about. Fuck it, I went to watch the band. It was an indie rock group, led by a man with a beard and some long greasy hair. I caught their last two songs and then caught back up with her. Stacy, there's something familiar about her but I can't place it. I thought I'd seen her before but I haven't. We bought beer and took a seat for the next band - I was robbed by the bartender for a Heineken, $4.25, but I shouldn't complain about that, I want to pretend like it doesn't matter when I'm on a date.
The bands were great and I loved the surf rock and Beatles influences. When she leaned over to my ear to talk to me, I felt her breath and wanted to turn to kiss her. Not here though. When it came time to see the band she brought me to hear, Parachute Musical, she wanted to stand up front for them. This usually makes me uncomfortable, but I was there to be with her so I did it. The singer was pompous and there was hardly enough room on the stage for the rest of the band as his ego kept push the crowd back and the band off stage. Then we left.
I'm in between again. Not forced to choose but forced to feel. One would be such an easy out, not bad though, but not the way I want it. Stacy plays guitar and I like her laugh. Then again, what's all worth to analyze. I'm not making any plans. I don't want to invest in that, she's great and she will always be for last night. Why try to ruin it by recreating it, then enhancing it? Nah, good enough is good enough.
Home. Sunday hopefully, yeah Sunday. This was long and maybe I meant to email to you, but here it is.
I met someone. Not recently, but we only just started becoming friends recently and I think she's an awesome. I want to call her vivacious. Last night I went out with her to Nashville and we had an adventure, and though I hate being around people, it was good. Went went to The Rutledge, an unusually clean, organized bar. The bands had started when we got there and she pretty much knew everyone, and I hated how awkward it was to stand around while they talked about shit that I had no idea about. Fuck it, I went to watch the band. It was an indie rock group, led by a man with a beard and some long greasy hair. I caught their last two songs and then caught back up with her. Stacy, there's something familiar about her but I can't place it. I thought I'd seen her before but I haven't. We bought beer and took a seat for the next band - I was robbed by the bartender for a Heineken, $4.25, but I shouldn't complain about that, I want to pretend like it doesn't matter when I'm on a date.
The bands were great and I loved the surf rock and Beatles influences. When she leaned over to my ear to talk to me, I felt her breath and wanted to turn to kiss her. Not here though. When it came time to see the band she brought me to hear, Parachute Musical, she wanted to stand up front for them. This usually makes me uncomfortable, but I was there to be with her so I did it. The singer was pompous and there was hardly enough room on the stage for the rest of the band as his ego kept push the crowd back and the band off stage. Then we left.
I'm in between again. Not forced to choose but forced to feel. One would be such an easy out, not bad though, but not the way I want it. Stacy plays guitar and I like her laugh. Then again, what's all worth to analyze. I'm not making any plans. I don't want to invest in that, she's great and she will always be for last night. Why try to ruin it by recreating it, then enhancing it? Nah, good enough is good enough.
Home. Sunday hopefully, yeah Sunday. This was long and maybe I meant to email to you, but here it is.