the only thing worse
than bad memories
is no memories at all..
[dismemberment plan]
7.21.2006
Oh.
These are the very last words on the very last page of a book I read not too long ago:
"You get down on your knees and tear open the bag. The smell of warm dough envelops you. The first bite sticks in your throat and you almost gag. You will have to go slowly. You will have to learn everything all over again."
I usually try to wait until something really meaningful happens to write about it on here, but this time I'm just kind of pissed and feel like throwing this out there.
So against my better judgement, I hung out tonight with someone I very briefly dated more than a year ago. We'll call him "B." Past occasions in which he and I have tried to hang out after we parted ways ended rather poorly, with the best example being this.
Anyway, his former roommate, some sassy French chick, was having a party on 74th Street. I was kind of miserable, as I usually am in strange, unfamiliar social settings -- plus the whole tiny apartment was filled with stale cigarette smoke which made me want to die or kill someone.
The party was kind of shitty and filled with overprivileged rich white chicks (incidentally, they all went to NYU from what I gather -- not surprising) having insufferably meandering conversations asking each other, "So, what do you do?" and ending with some kind of comment that L.A. "totally sucks, it's like so totally lifeless, seriously."
So B. and I have a friend who was DJing at a bar downtown, so we decided to leave with a fellow straggler in tow. In the elevator, B. clandestinely mentioned that the French chick was pissed because her ex-boyfriend was getting the number of some other girl at the party. We all agreed that it was a pretty fucking dickhead move and how we felt bad for French chick.
"God, you know, that's one thing that really fucking bothers me when guys do that to a girl. I mean, what the fuck are you trying to prove when you do shit like that?" insisted B., his voice becoming impassioned at the thought of this grave injustice. "She was furious, I could tell. Man, that is seriously fucked up. I can't stand shit like that."
We got to the bar, and immediately he starts chatting up some random blonde chick, who in turn is so drunk or slutty or both that she flings herself upon him, grabbing him by the hair and giggling. He loudly gives her his number, reciting each individual number determinedly, and they continue playing grabass with each other. She even leaned over to me and said loudly, "YOUR FRIEND OVER HERE IS TOTALLY GETTING LAID." Very classy.
I awkwardly tell the other kid that I'd hate to leave him as the third wheel, but I was getting out of there and said goodbye.
Am I wrong to think this is hypocritical? To say that he hates it when guys make their ex-girlfriends feel uncomfortable by macking on other girls, then proceeds to do that same fucking thing to me no more than 10 minutes later? That's like being so very, very homosexual that you in turn become a raging homophobe.
This really shouldn't be a big deal, I know. He and I certainly don't have any feelings for each other anymore and have become somewhat friends. But lately I've been spending the majority of my time in the company of a guy (not B.) to whom I've apparently become invisible over the course of about a year. There are dozens of fruit flies all over his apartment from where we put food out and just lost interest and let it rot -- which is a little too appropriate of a parallelism of this whole situation than I'd like to admit. And as I was walking home late at night from this bar with this strange, complex feeling rolling around in the very pit of my stomach, I was faced with the unavoidable realization that I've been living in the city for about three years, have met hundreds of people, and yet very, very few of them manage to make me feel less like I'm the only person in the world that has ever been lonely.
I've been getting very tempted lately to change my name, cut my hair, sell all my clothes and go very far away from where I am now.
Edit: This is an AIM conversation my mom and I had in March about two years ago that I read when I'm feeling a little blue. It always makes me laugh. Isn't she hilariously awesome?
mom: share some smile mom: & joke mom: spread ur wings:-) me: :) mom: try to fold paper plane then write down ur hope'wishes' mom: and mom: fly away mom: try now:-D me: :) me: mom you are so cute mom: i'm ur mother mom: this is my name mom: u are my treasure mom: flower mom: tree mom: birds mom: glory mom: happy me: hehe me: thank you mom mom: ................:-D
[Peek-a-Foo]