While we're racing to be so bold...

7/13/01 2:30 a.m.

Well, that was a hysterical, panicky thing, wasn't it? What I've taken home from that experience is calm down, boy. First of all, she called, and second of all, it doesn't really matter. Nothin's gonna happen. It shouldn't. So?
I mean, there's now the somewhat strained (or I imagining even that?) friendship. Which has the potential for being fun.
No, yeah, I mean, yeah. God I just fall in love so easily. Show me a bright, lively, attractive, cynical, 29-year-old, and man, I just go nuts.
What is it with me? Why aren't I attracted to over-worked, burnt out, bitter women my own age? Why not? Because they reflect me, rather than the image that I still carry of myself: Me at 27. For some reason, that was my prime. Must have been 1979. The elvis costello years. The living in my english basement, working-at-the-folger-for-sixty-five-bucks-a-week years. My working at Hayden's years. My drinking, smoking, poker-playing years.
Jesus. If I could only... But I can't. I'm stuck here. Mostly sober. Looking at life like it really is. And I won't say that it's a pile of shit. It's just littered with piles of shit. But you learn where to step. That's what growing up is, boys and girls...
Damn. I apologize. All of this language. Who the fuck do I think I am? Tony Soprano? Me at 27? I'm a grown-up, for gosh sakes. Why the frig can't I freakin' talk like one?
Focused. Self-confident. I'm running through more of the qualities that attract me. Run run run. Nasty wit. Which I equate with life. To not be a sheep. To be able to look at the world and realize its (frequent) stupidities. (I couldn't spell idiocies, or I would have used that.)
Damn, this is exhausting. Not the writing. The living part. Creating a small world and then being bound by it.
God damn, boy, why the fuck don't you get out the house?
I did. I did! Lasty nighty i went to a movie with a friend. And then out for some indian food. and then tonight with another friend, out for some thai food and then another movie. Thas me. Moving out there, amongst the miserable and unhappy.

Can I explain any better what happened the other night? (snore snore) I went to a friend's place for a late dinner. We walked to a local restaurant, ate dinner. Talked. Connected. Walked back to her place. Hung out for a second, started to leave. And then was just overtaken with the feelings I have for her. So much so that I could barely breathe. I stood there, thinking of all of the things I wanted to say. And knowing that none of them were things that I should say. But there I was. Trapped. Brain lock. Brain freeze. Just overwhelmed. And I just stood there.
And things turned in that moment. My perception of what happened was that she sensed that my friendship was more. And that that was threatening to her. I may be totally wrong. Believe me. I have been dead fucking wrong before. But it was a long awkward moment. And I accidentally revealed myself.
I felt I had betrayed her friendship. I knew the rules. We knew each other's stories... And I blew it.
Or maybe when I apologized the next day for that very awkward moment. Maybe that was when I blew it. Or maybe I haven't blown it.
And somewhere in my head rings the question, is this fair to the woman? And somewhere else in my head, I ask myself, what if she reads this? Can I write myself out of a hole? Or am I tossing dirt on top of my head?
You see why I don't go out much? Much? That's funny. Out. Beep beep, here comes the truck. (I can hear my sister telling me to stop whining. Funny how those voices carry on through the years. Really funny.)

True addictive, compulsive story:
Really simple. I was waiting at the deli line for some sliced turkey. Waiting. Guy in an over-sized baseball cap, his hair puffed out like earmuffs, leaning over his cart. He suddenly moans, "Don't buy the sushi." His wife or sister is standing there at the counter, poking through the packages of pre-made sushi. "Don't buy the sushi!" He bellows again. "Don't buy it." And he walked away. The woman gave up and followed him. Meanwhile, my turkey was apparently resisting being sliced because it was taking forever. I watched as the woman behind the counter called to another deli-woman. Unaware that in my secret identity i am Spanish Major, they were talking about how they wanted to go home and these people were doing this and blah blah blah... And then suddenly. "Don't buy the sushi!"
The woman was digging deeper into the pile of packaged sushi. Looking for the new, good stuff. (I hope. That's what I do, anyway.) "Don't buy the sushi."
And the more he kept saying it, the more I wanted it. "Don"t buy the sushi," he broken-record'ed. And in my head I was thinking. Fuck you. I want the sushi. I want the sushi. I'm going to get the sushi. "Don't get the sushi." I want the sushi! The wife-type put a package in their cart and he rolled away, disgusted.
I got my turkey, And then I went straight to the sushi. I'd been planning on a nice big fresh sandwich. But the more that guy said don't, the more I had to have it.
I watch a movie where people are getting drunk. I want a drink. People getting high. I want it. Show me to the cliff where people are jumping. Show me to a sexy, smart-mouthed woman...

all material ©2001 iguanaking