Blog Entry #2: Vacationing Morale...

...and in his eyes I knew he was the one. As he leaned closer to me with his mouth curved into a sultry smile, I moved closer to him in turn. His mouth was a breadth away from mine, but then he pulled back and screamed...

"FUCK! I SPILLED MY FUCKING DRINK ALL OVER ME!" The words split into my skull, and roused me from my sleep at... Did the clock seriously say it was only 2:38 AM...? I pushed myself out of my half-sleep stupor to pry open the curtains and glower down at my fellow residency occupants while they scrambled around drunkenly; laughing and merry-making. I shut my window, essentially ignored the raucous laughter and found myself back into blissful sleep with my handsome stranger.

Bzzzzzzzzzzzz! The ungodly hour of 7:3o AM. I felt as though I hadn't gotten any sleep during the night, and I now had to somehow drag my ass out of bed and get ready for my nine o'clock class of the awe-inspiring English Literature For Our Time. Now a woman getting ready in the morning greatly differs from a man's routine, as if that's not obvious. Now, my routine differs from everyone elses on the face of the earth.

Let me break it down:
I groan and fuss with the blankets to turn off the annoying alarm clock, meander half-dead into the bathroom to wash my face, brush my teeth... Pretty normal so far? Well, here's where it gets messy. I turn on my laptop, poke through some of my iTunes, and play the most upbeat annoying song that I can find... And dance. That's right. Dance. I dance doing my makeup, my hair, putting on clothes, making my bed. I dance through it all!

Ten minutes later, I'm entering the chattering classroom and immediately spot the only vacant desk. Remember the mystery girl against SFB's arm? Yeah, well she was there beside the vacant left-handed desk seat, and conveniently SFB himself. Frantically, I searched around but the class was strangely full to the tee. So I found myself seated uncomfortably at the front of the class in this awkward situation.

I received a few friendly hellos. A concerned, "Are you feeling better?", from an acquaintance but I was initially ignored by SFB, since his seat was not next to mine this time around.

My Prof, bless her, is the type of woman that tends to ramble on and on to the point of redundancy. Her lessons consist of going over everything eight times more than necessary. No jokes. No witty comments. No interesting notations. We read, re-read, and read again a select few paragraphs from The Eternal Frontier. After that, we settled down into a close-reading assignment, of which I'm sure I annhiliated any chance of a good mark due to my rustiness on writing in essay format.

At exactly 1o:oo, I burst through the doors without so much as a backwards glance to the torture chamber from Hell. I skirted down the hall, and practically flew to the Dining Hall. I wasn't hungry, but I knew in the back of my head that SFB and mystery girl would show up and for the life of me I didn't want to be eating breakfast on my own because that'd just give them the initiative to sit with me. Like I wanted that.

Banana and Fresca in hand, I was just about to leave when a handsome stranger who lived in the same residence community as me, strode over to say, "Hello." By sheer coincidence, of course. My handsome stranger offered to have breakfast with me, and despite my better judgement, I accepted.

Right on cue, the curtains shimmy open and SFB shows up with mystery girl in tow. It was right when my handsome stranger and I were debating over a vat of sushi that didn't look exactly edible.
"I wouldn't eat it. It's terrible. Heh..." Jests SFB as he walks by, straying for a few seconds as if he wants to have a conversation. Unfortunately for him, my handsome stranger "inadvertantly" ignores him. We decide better on the sushi, anyways, and seat ourselves by a scenic window. My banana was delicious, as always, and after discussing the Russian alphabet with my handsome stranger, we decided it best to head off.

I'm standing up.
I'm leaning forward to grab the leather straps of my bookbag, and in my peripheral vision I can see SFB's gray t-shirt.
As I turn to push my chair back in, my eyes meet his. Green clashing against brown, only there was a hint of something else in those green depths...
Of course, I ignored my intuition and strolled right out of the dining hall without, again, a backwards glance.
And now I sit and wonder, what did that mean?!

Ding Dong: "Awe. :) Someone met a boy. :)"
Not one smiley, but two!. Jealous? Curious? Pleasantly surprised? Sometimes I get a feeling that I over-analyze everything... The only part of that that bothers me is that even though I try, almost everything that comes out of my fingers revolves around someone I'm trying to not have anything revolve around.

The next night, party night, was fog-ridden and moist. Beyond the dew-painted rooftops, I could hear a distant murmur of music. Or rather, I should say, the hum of the bass. My mind, sloshing around and doing the waltz in my head, barely registers that my companions are with me.
Nothing like a drink to forget my woes!

[Confession to alcoholism? No... Not there yet!]

Together, with my head detatched, my companions and I meandered down the snaking path like conjolling zombies drawn to a wayward human as moths to a flame. Only, we were headed towards a residence house party, that we wanted to bust and dance our ways into.

The party was fairly typical, as far as parties go; too many drunk people crammed like sardines in a single room and pouring out into the streets, while trying to dance somehow in the over-crowded space. The prodominant gender of this populace was: Male. So the impending situation shouldn't have come as a surprise to me.

I was making my way across the house to find one of my friends located in the backyard. The only thing between us was the gaggle of dancing, drunken men. Somehow, I managed to dance my way on through. The door was in sight! As I almost reached the door, though, I felt someone brush against my behind. Looking over my shoulder, I catch a flash of a white smile, and hooded eyes. Definitely not an expression one of my companions would've worn.
Luckily, Companion #1 slid in between us and crotch-blocked the guy.
Whew...

My night of false-frivoloty ended with me falling asleep, squished into a wall on a too-small bed with my companions. [And no, nothing happened. Sickos...] When I woke up, I was treated to the most adorable sight. They were curled up, sleeping like two ginormous babies. Luckily I wake early, so I had time to brush my teeth and wash my face before they even had time to think of how awful I look in the mornings! Safe---!

The rest of the weekend flew by, and I found myself immersed back into a freezing cold Monday morning. Only this time, I made damn sure that I was so early I got the bloody seat that I wanted. A right-handed one, too! And while I read The Labyrinth by Kate Mosse, SFB and his entourage pull in. His cavalry situate themselves after he settles down on the desk beside me. Small talk commenced, and then we lapsed into silence while the Prof began her incessant ramblings on Thesis Statements.

"See you later." I said, as I practically flung myself from the room. I barely heard his reply. To be honest, I'm not sure why I rushed off like a bat out of Hell. I'm going to be an English major, not a Psychologist. And I certainly wouldn't recommend a self-analysis! The results may vary.

Ding Dong: "Do you have a class right now?"
Reply: "Yes, I have a class from 11:oo - 1:oo."
Ding Dong: "Oh damn. I was wondering if you wanted some breakfast."

So sue me. I fled from the dining hall just as quickly as I had with the classroom. My excuse: Starbucks withdrawl. Of course, this was a blatant lie. I could barely taste my Caffe Mocha. I need a resolution. I can't let the little Devil on my shoulder to cloud my judgement any longer! [And maybe the little Angel will return from Tahiti...] I will assert myself. I am my own woman, with a good head on my shoulders...

Ding Dong. "Hey, up for a game of scrabble?
Reply: "Of course. Come on over."
Okay, so I'm a weak individual. I just keep digging my hole further. If I continue, I'll be in the depths of Hell with my bad decision making! However, the night consisted of my whooping some ass--- by 65 points --- and trying to man my hormonal fortress simultaneously. It didn't help that he:
A) Came dressed in casual, practically nightwear clothes. [Easily removeable.]
B) Kept making double entendres
C) Tickled me after losing so, so utterly miserably...

After being questioned about the party on Friday, and what my friends and I did, while trying to fend off being kissed... Somehow I managed to assert myself, since this benefit with friends is doing my head in. Seriously, migraines are not fun! SFB agreed hesitantly, but decided to use his more important head, and not the one between his legs. Then basically fled the scene. Really, the sequence of events could be summated into five points.
-Scrabble
-LadyLarkspur 1 ~ SFB 0
-Attempted cuddle
-Rejection / Establishing platonic standings
-Gone

It just may be time to consider new angles on all of this... If only the Angel on my shoulder would return from vacation.

Blog Entry #1 - My Life is a Bad Soap Opera

Ding Dong. Text: Hey, what are you up to?

The blue-lit screen of my cell phone seemed to me the equivolent of staring directly into the sun, as I sat re-watching Gossip Girl in my room. There were several options in my option bag, but every notion I plucked out didn't exactly feel right. I had to face the fact: I had to reply.

Let me re-cap a little, to give a little insight as to why I was hesitant.
Rewind the tape to Friday morning, on a muggy autumn day. Classes began, and ended just as quickly in my mind. I was too pre-occupied with thinking about the impending shopping trip to Square One. I had my list set, my makeup done, and well I might not have looked like sex-on-legs, but I was fairly presentable in my own opinion.

Ding Dong. Ding Dong. Ding Dong. Text tag went on for a while, but eventually I found myself on the bus seated next to the handsome stranger whom I was going to find myself immersed in a whole lot of shit-hitting-the-fan with.

To actually describe the shopping trip without bias is impossible. We went from going into the most ridiculously over-priced garbage on mannequins' stores, to the oddest restaurant that I've ever seen, (but presented me with the most delectable hot dog I could have ever ate), and then into Wal-Mart for last minute shit before we left for the day.

Now, onto behavioural studies. I'm not a psychic, but I'm also not stupid. I know in my intuitive processing when something is awkward with someone. Could it have been the fact that during the entire six-hour duration of the trip he was texting someone else? Could it have been the going for a kiss and receiving one on the forehead; similar to when your mother put you to bed when you were five? Could it have been the strange body language, or the half-smiles, or the intense silent treatment sessions that only talking to a tombstone could have compared to?

Well, yeah. Actually, it was all of those things.

I'm not going to lie, I was feeling pretty shitastic by the end of this shopping trip. All the previous excitement built up for this had all but deflated by the time we stepped off the bus and back onto campus grounds. After making plans to obtain a phone call that night to meet up and go to a party, without a backward glance he walked away from me and in turn I went the opposite way back to my place.

Alright, so. I'm not the most socially inclined person so if this sounds pathetic... It probably is. I actually sat at home watching Video on Trial vids on Youtube practically the entire night. By 11:30 PM, I was starting to wonder where the FUCK my phonecall was. So, of course. I called.

"Hello?"
"Hey! What's up?"
"Oh, hey. Not much. Just at a pre-party at Russia's. You?"
Laughter erupts from the background. Anger rises.
"Oh, not much. So, when are we meeting at that party?"
Glaring at innocent pop can of Dr Pepper.
"I'm not sure. I think we're going to be heading over there soon, so I'll give you a call. Okay?"
"Oh, sure. See you then."
"Bye."
"Bye bye."

An hour passes, and still no phone call. So, at this juncture I'm pretty much ready to kick his face into something solid, but malleable like a metal garbage can lid. I send a text that I'm going to bed.

Saturday rolls around, and passes. Sunday rolls around, laundry commences, and somewhere late in the afternoon I receive a text. Miffed at myself for being pleased, expecting an apology, or even to hang out. I get,

Ding Dong. Text: Hey, have you gotten The Eternal Frontier yet?

I have to say, the socks I was folding almost died at this time. Luckily I restrained myself, and saved a pair of socks. So, after practically living through a comedy-romance movie, always in one another's company since school began. I was given the cold shoulder, brushed off, and kicked to the curb like a bubblegum wrapper that was found at the bottom of your purse. Better left forgotten.

Let me be the first to say that despite it all, I wasn't, and still am not ready to be in an official relationship.

However, this did hurt my feelings and subsequentially... My pride. I have a habit of laying down all my cards, and wearing my heart on my sleeves first. Then ask questions later. This is not really a benefit to me, or anyone else for that matter. I usually find people running off in the other direction because of the minor skeletons in my closet
.
Then, only yesterday I find out that he just realized that he had brushed me off a little. JUST. Well, what a crock of shit. So, I told him over MSN how I felt about the whole situation, and received a few apologies and a promise to make it up to me.
Hmph, we'll see about that.

On a side note: To put it eloquently, I aptly named him SFB. Or, Shit for Brains. This nickname occurred to me while I was fuming over the weekend while stories poured in of him taking his shirt off for random girls at a random party.

Miffed at myself again, I knew I hadn't and probably won't for a long time, forgive him. I was just pissed off that I even wanted to try.
Now, back to the present.

Morning comes around. I feel worse than if someone slipped me influenza through an IV overnight. Actually, I'd consider that that's what had happened. Over a series of seven hours, I somehow woke up with my head so hot I was primarily worried that my room was on fire. Only in this, the heat radiated from my face! I couldn't go to class like this! So, I texted SFB and told him something probably in French.

I honestly can't remember... I couldn't make it to class, but I made plans to meet up with him after it was over. I'd have never of made it in three minutes. Not a chance. So, good on my word. I'm there in time for him to come out of the North Building with a beautiful lady on his shoulder.

Don't ask me her name, I'd never remember. It didn't surprise me, because he seems like the kind of person who needs some sort of attention fixated on him from a female visitor. Funny thing, I wasn't even jealous.

So we eat breakfast, and during I give him some of my insight on his behavioural portrayals. I didn't want to, but he forced it out of me. My observations were pretty accurate, but what I really wanted to say is that he could be one cold-hearted bastard when he wanted to be.

Lucky I have some self restraint. We ended up in his dorm room upstairs from the cafeteria, and somewhere along the lines we discussed our issues. Number One: His insecurity on sexual peformance led him to kick me to the side.
"Inadvertantly".
Number Two: Some words I used led him to think I actually wanted a more-than-friend relationship, and this too led him to kick me to the side.
"Inadvertantly".

So, that's on the table now eh? He already knew my feelings on the matter, but I felt I had to tell him that both of those things were a huge mistake to have even considered. We decided it best to be only friends.

Which is essentially what we had always been in the first place. Back at square one, again. It's fine by me, because I know I don't want to give him any more leverage to hurt me like he had before.

Then, stupid human being that I am, gave into temptation. Yet again, again... again. Ahem, again. He kissed me, several times. How can someone hold back when the fundamental basis of your 'friendship' is built up on physical attraction? It's stupid, yeah yeah. It's risky, yeah yeah. It's actually a really fast-paced, rocky, whatever-you-call-this-relationship. Benefit with friend? I can't really call it the other way around, as it wouldn't be correct.

Shit has hit the fan, yet again.

I just hope at some point, I'll find someone who can actually take all the cards I laid down, scoop up every skeleton from my closet, grab hold of all my vices and somehow still love me. Isn't that idealistic?

And so my life continues from this point forth as a really bad soap opera.