(no subject)
Ugh. It's Monday. I feel vaguely like I've been kicked in the gut and beat up from the inside. I wish I had something solid I could pin this feeling on, but unfortunately I only have a couple of theories ranging from a) my UTI pain medicine b) my constantly spasming urethra c) consuming way too much food yesterday at South City Diner and Rachel M.'s BBQ and d) dissmal lack of physical activity and lots of lying in bed.
Needless to say above mentioned lying in bed took place with Erik, who has been refiled in the "fabulous" category after performing up to snuff after early week retardedness. Basically, he realized, in his words, that "being with me even with the risk of me not staying in St. Louis was less risky than getting back together with her." I'm not sure if that makes sense to anyone, but that is in fact the correct answer folks. Additionally, he told her she had to stop being so aggressive about trying to get him back, i.e. calling all the time, coming up with excuses to come over to his mom's and gush about how they had so much fun when they together and blah blah blah. He claims he's no longer going to let her do such things, and I have no choice at this point but to believe him. However, if mofo fucks up JUST ONCE he's gettin the boot. I'm sorry, but I put up with too much shit for too long. My patience has been exploited. No more.
That being said, once all that was talked through, we had a very nice weekend. Lots of lying in bed and not much more: Friday we went to The Royale, Steve Smith's new bar on Kingshighway near Arsenal, and had a couple of drinks (Rachel M. was bartending), then to Modesto (not Modesto's, people) for a late dinner, which lead to reminiscing about our first date (which was there), then we went home and passed out by 11:30; we then slept for literally 12 or 13 hours. Totally ridiculous. Saturday we got up at 1-ish, went by the tattoo place he's getting a new tattoo done at this Sunday to drop off the picture he wants (a Japanese woodcut from the 16th cent. of a demon playing a guitar; he's getting in the inside of his left forearm), then went to Shaw's Coffee Garden where JJ was working for some breakfest, went next door to the Italian groccery and bought some fresh imported Romano to put on pasta (I'm determined to start eating at home more and not going out so much, you just save SO much money), and then I went to work with Andy (my work, he came with) to do some overtime. Drama with Andy finding out that Erik and I are in love which on the one hand I felt bad about because it was a shitty way for him to find out, but on the other, given the horribleness that went down with Erik and the Psycho Bitch that was partially due to her not being in the know about the seriousness of our relationship, I'd rather he know than not know. I know he's in a lot of pain though, and that does really pain me. Up until recently I've had trouble feeling sympathy for him, but given my current state of relationship happiness and his overall state of miserableness, my feelings are beginning to change.
To be continued.... work is insanity today. Arrrggghh.
Needless to say above mentioned lying in bed took place with Erik, who has been refiled in the "fabulous" category after performing up to snuff after early week retardedness. Basically, he realized, in his words, that "being with me even with the risk of me not staying in St. Louis was less risky than getting back together with her." I'm not sure if that makes sense to anyone, but that is in fact the correct answer folks. Additionally, he told her she had to stop being so aggressive about trying to get him back, i.e. calling all the time, coming up with excuses to come over to his mom's and gush about how they had so much fun when they together and blah blah blah. He claims he's no longer going to let her do such things, and I have no choice at this point but to believe him. However, if mofo fucks up JUST ONCE he's gettin the boot. I'm sorry, but I put up with too much shit for too long. My patience has been exploited. No more.
That being said, once all that was talked through, we had a very nice weekend. Lots of lying in bed and not much more: Friday we went to The Royale, Steve Smith's new bar on Kingshighway near Arsenal, and had a couple of drinks (Rachel M. was bartending), then to Modesto (not Modesto's, people) for a late dinner, which lead to reminiscing about our first date (which was there), then we went home and passed out by 11:30; we then slept for literally 12 or 13 hours. Totally ridiculous. Saturday we got up at 1-ish, went by the tattoo place he's getting a new tattoo done at this Sunday to drop off the picture he wants (a Japanese woodcut from the 16th cent. of a demon playing a guitar; he's getting in the inside of his left forearm), then went to Shaw's Coffee Garden where JJ was working for some breakfest, went next door to the Italian groccery and bought some fresh imported Romano to put on pasta (I'm determined to start eating at home more and not going out so much, you just save SO much money), and then I went to work with Andy (my work, he came with) to do some overtime. Drama with Andy finding out that Erik and I are in love which on the one hand I felt bad about because it was a shitty way for him to find out, but on the other, given the horribleness that went down with Erik and the Psycho Bitch that was partially due to her not being in the know about the seriousness of our relationship, I'd rather he know than not know. I know he's in a lot of pain though, and that does really pain me. Up until recently I've had trouble feeling sympathy for him, but given my current state of relationship happiness and his overall state of miserableness, my feelings are beginning to change.
To be continued.... work is insanity today. Arrrggghh.