0601.Sunday, April 11. 2004


I went salsa dancing last night. I met (pretty much in passing) this gorgeous (I'm talking movie-star hot) girl there and halfway though the night she goosed me!

I have to say I'm a little ashamed at being so flattered by it, but there it is.


c o m m e n t s


'You can goose girls at our new apartment too if you want. Just close the door. Sometimes. I KID I KID. Next year's going to be fun :)'

1628.Friday, April 13. 2004


'What's goosing? Have I been out of the country for too long? (or maybe just antisocial for too long...?)

1603.Saturday, April 24. 2004


0212.Friday, April 09. 2004

c o m m e n t s


'You know it's funny. No one knows what the 'first-post-dance' actually looks like. Well I don't. Do you? Regardless, I'm doing it. See? *first comment dance*'

0641.Friday, April 09. 2004


'Somehow it eluded my attention that you've got a blog. Goddamnit, this is why everyone ought to just get an LJ--it makes things ever so much easier on me--and it's all about me. -_^

Anyway, just wanted to say that I'm sorry you're having housing troubles...I'm pretty up in the air with housing right now to(going to Japan and all, I can't reserve housing until I get back).'

2239.Tuesday, April 20. 2004


'Happiness and Housing'

I've recently (within the past couple years) adopted the rationale that I need to be emotionally independant from the rest of the world. That I can't let my happiness depend on anyone but myself and a lot of emotional advice I've doled out was based on that assumption. But is that right?

Recently I've had some housing problems: Initially the plan was to live w/ my friend Andy and two of his friends. Then our friend Alex joined the mix. We couldn't find a 5-person house so instead we tried to find an apartment building where we could split 2/3 but at least live close to each other. Since the two guys only knew Andy, the logical split was Alex&Me/Andy,Cal,&Jerr. We found a place, Andy and them turned in some papers, and I (a few days later) looked at the place and signed myself and Alex up (Alex happens to be in Paris right now, so has been doing all this through email).

Unfortunately Cal and Jerr (as I understand it) didn't want to pay the rates for the place we'd found, so the three of them decided to find a different place to live.

Then, after getting a satisfactory housing-lottery-number from the school, Alex decided to live on campus after all (not so abruptly, a week before he outed he made it clear that he might do so).

That was five days ago. I asked Andy if I could throw my lot back in w/ him and his friends and he said he'd try, but he's having trouble finding a place to accomidate all of us. It's rather late in the game and I've not done any apartment hunting with them at all, so really I can't justify my elbowing back in.

My current emotional rationale dictates that I throw my hands up, say 'fuck you all' and go live by myself. But the fact of the matter is that I don't want to live by myself. Not really. I can and I will if I have to -- I'll adjust and probably be happy. But I'd rather live with friends. And it's not like I have any say over my 'wants'. Maybe it's not so easy to control your happiness at all.

Is it possible to be alone and happy? If not being dependant on other people for your own happiness means being alone. That's usually not the case, in my experience.

I remember reading somewhere, "If you go looking for happiness, it will elude you. But if you stay busy you'll look up and realize it's found you." Or was that love?

------on a completely different note------

Ha. I nabbed this from my friend Lauren's away message:

Ernest Adams on the Matrix: Its got the emphasis on style over substance. Lets face it, anybody who wears sunglasses indoors, and is not blind, is a wanker. And anybody who does kung fu in a raincoat is a moron. Here's this guy who can dodge bullets, but he cant dodge raindrops. He can change the laws of physics by using the power of his mind, but he cant change clothes.





1847.Wednesday, April 07. 2004

'Fickle as a Pickle'

It's funny how fickle I can be. The girl I was talking about before has shown very little interest me in the last couple of days and I've already given up on her and moved on. Then again, I've done that five or six times already this year, but become re-infatuated with her again and again.

It sucks how girls still play the passive role in current society so often -- at least when it comes to dating.

Usually I'm not so shy, but most girls send out clearer signals one way or the other.


0353.Wednesday, April 07. 2004

c o m m e n t s


'I believe that "pH scale of sexuality" you refer to is called the Kinsey scale. Something you remember when it's your last name spelled backwards. ::cough::'

1600.Saturday, April 24. 2004



So over the weekend I had an interesting conversation about homosexuality with an old acquaintance, who happens to be gay.

I'd always thought that sexuality fit on this scale -- like pH. That everyone's bi-sexual to some degree and that if you're just really straight or really gay you're at 1 and 14 respectively with bi-sexuality being in the middle (and most people being closer to the center than they'd be willing to admit).

B-boy says no. He asked me this one question and he drew a very distict line between the homo and heterosexuality.

"There are two beautiful naked people right there," he points to a spot a few feet away from me. "One is a woman and is just as gorgeous as the man standing next to her. Would you fuck the man?"

I thought for a second and, though I could recognize his beauty, i absolutely would not want to have sex with a man, regardless of how hot he was. I had thought that just my ability to appreciate another man's physique without being sexually attracted to him put me at like a 2 or 3 on my scale--

"Nah! That's the point! Anyone can appreciate a good body: but if you're not sexually attracted to a man, you're straight. That's it."

I tried to come up with an arguement, but couldn't. I suppose I'll just have to settle for being metro.


0500.Wednesday, April 07. 2004


c o m m e n t s


' I didn't know you were on OKcupid... What's your SN? Mine's shiningpeaches.

2300.Tuesday, April 20. 2004



I took one of those dating test things and was amused to find that they didn't want me using their services:

"...but we'd like you to consider not using OkCupid. You can be unthinking and hurtful, and we think you LIKE seeing bad things happen. You've had a moderate number of relationships, but broken a disproportionate number of hearts. In total, you mean well, but don't really have it together."

here's the link. Ironically I look and dress like my complete opposite.

ha. I took it again. With different truths. I think it's more accurate. But maybe just because it's nicer. Here's the link.


0509.Friday, April 02. 2004

'She loves me, she loves me not'


Why do I like this girl so much? We don't have like anything in common. Well...a few things, but she's nothing like I promised my next girlfriend would be! When I see her it's like suddenly the sun broke into the room and started breakdancing. Not necessarily because of how I feel about her, she just has that sort of disposition, I think. And it's really attractive.

But she keeps sending me these mixed signals. I don't really blame her, as I don't think she really knows how to *not* flirt with boys.

Every time I touch her though, she freezes. I doubt she likes me enough to freeze up and be nervous as some girls do, so I have no choice but to assume it's because she just wants to be friends -- who don't pat eachother on the shoulder.

But when our eyes lock, I can't help but feel electricity jolt up my spine.


That's why I hate signals: they can really be read either way most of the time.

Why can't I just like boys? Life would be so much simpler.


I talked to my sister about my conundrum and, with a consoling pat, she told me that odds are that her signals aren't mixed at all: that I was reading more into her friendliness than there was because I wanted her to feel that way. I'm forced to agree with her.


0405.Tuesday, March 23. 2004

'Child of the night'

I made the mistake of going to bed today. I stayed up all night last night and went to class and made a presentation based on the webpage I put together (here). I came back to my room and slept through two of my classes, waking up at 2100.

I call it a mistake because I've now reverted completely to my natural state of nocturnalness. My body always wars against being awake during the day, but I'm usually able to keep it in line and make myself function. But now I'm screwed.

The trouble with being awake at night is that no one else is. I live in freaking Saint Louis and everything closes by 10pm. I walk around my dorm hall and all the doors are closed. It's depressing. I especially wanted to chat with an old friend of mine, but even she (child of the night as she is) went to sleep around 3.

--Do I really want to keep this blog so ambiguous? I thought it was a good idea to begin with, but I think it's starting to get ridiculous--

Amy (yes you, dear: I feel you're probably one of the three people who regularly reads this) is her name. I had to settle with reading an old saved IM (yeah, I'm really a geek that way). It was mildly reassuring that as I read our old convo, I found myself responding the same way that I did half a year ago. I even laughed at the same old jokes. It makes me think that maybe we don't change as people as quickly or as completely as I've started to believe. Maybe we are actually responsible for the actions of our previous selves.

I also find it interesting that the law agrees with me (apparently, for some crimes, you can't be prosecuted after some ten years or so?).


On a completely different note, I was commissioned to do artwork by two different people today. Friends want me to take down their likenesses. It doesn't bother me, quite the opposite -- I'm delighted to do it, it just amuses me that it happened in completely different circumstances but within minutes of eachother.


2303.Tuesday, March 16. 2004


There are two girls that I care for deeply. But neither desires a relationship with me as intimate as I would prefer. Last week I visited them both. It smarted that it was so plain that I'd never have that kind of relationship with either. Regardless, I had a really fun time with each. I couldn't help wondering though: should I not have been spending that time with someone who could perhaps grow to care for me as I would for her? Then again, maybe my time is better spent with good friends rather than chasing skirts.


2224.Wednesday, March 10. 2004

'Worthwhile Consequences'

I hate being hung over. Last night I overindulged in drink and Smoke. I figured, hey I'm on vacation, why not? I'll tell you why: I had to drag my sorry ass into a cab a couple of hours after crashing on one of the dirtiest, smelliest couches I've ever had the pleasure of sinking into. But I got up. I did. And I packed (a much harder thing than it sounds in the state I was in). I even had time to chase after the cat I accidentally let out of the house in my bleary-eyed shuffling -- groaning and cursing the Fates all the way.

There are few things I find more annoying than a chatty cabdriver. This morning was no exception. I was in true distress as my body demanded that it exact the price of my recent overindulgences NOW. But I feared to offend she who might drive me somewhere and maybe kill me once I passed out in her cab. So maybe I was still a little paranoid from the evening's activities.

There really is no point to this story except the absolute misery I was in. But you know what? I don't regret any of it.


1205.Tuesday, March 9. 2004


I went on a jog by myself last night. It was glorious. I forgot how much fun climbing and jumping fences in the dark was.


1505.Tuesday, March 9. 2004

'Faux Pimp'

So last night I went with a couple of my buddies to the gym (I'm visiting for part of the week). Mike told me that he thought that there was a martial arts room somewhere in the building, so I went to investigate as he struck up a game of basketball w/ a couple other guys.

I asked for directions at the front desk, where the deskman scratched his beard with a thoughtful expression and said, "Well, I suppose the activities room would be the closest thing to that: follow those stairs, hang a right at the end of the hall, pass the pool, go through a set of double doors, and it'll be on your right."

I thanked him for the trouble and jogged up the stairs. After a while I found the room he was talking about and I found that it was very much like the dance room I have trained in many a time at home, and who do I run into but my old classmate Elizabeth.

She was properly shocked and snagged my arm and led me downstairs. After a brief exchange, she borrowed a pen from the deskman, who raised an eyebrow but said nothing, and gave me her number. She then bade me well and skipped off to her dance lesson.

Upon leaving the gym with Mike and Giresh, I pretended as though I'd gotten the number from a random girl.


0547.Friday, March 5. 2004


I arrived in my hometown today. I visited my friend, Ashish. He still goes to school with my younger sister and is good friends with her, so she came too. And eight other friends of theirs. As I'm several years older than them (with the significant gap of having lived on my own for those years) I felt more out of place than I would normally have at a party of that small magnitude. It ended early and I drove my sister home with the full intention of going to bed; but as I was parked in front of my house I abruptly decided not ot go in.

I called some of my friends looking for a place to go, but the ones still in high school were in for the night and my other friends were either not in town or unreachable.

Instead I drove to one of my old haunts, not really sure why. It's a small coffeeshop that's always packed at two in the morning (as there aren't all that many places to go that hour).

So I got to the coffeeshop and sat at the bar and ordered myself one of their gigantic lattes and a slice of cheesecake. I sat and drank and ate; though I was still pretty full from the meal I had eaten at Ashish's not an hour before. I hadn't thought to bring a book or even my sketchbook, so I sat and stared (at the wall, as my seat did not face the room, much to my chagrin) the whole while wondering why I had even come, as I've always found eating alone in a public place both uncomfortable and depressing.

Occasionally I'd furtively glance around, but I was in a huge well-lit crowd of talking strangers. After a couple of dozen minutes, a girl snagged her sweater on my chair and I was forced to turn around and help her out of it (I say this because stewing in my own depression had left me relatively surly) and found myself face-to-face with Stephanie Nadalo.

She, of course, didn't recognize me: she'd graduated high-school a year or two before I did. Back then she had been one of the few unapproachable art-goth chicks that my school was in short supply of. She'd always been cute and I must confess that I had something of a crush on her back in the day, but I had had no chance whatsoever back then so...

She tugged herself free and I only managed to croak out her name after she was too far away to hear. I locked eyes with one of her friends trailing after her and managed to mouth the fake-question, "Stephanie Nadalo?"

He nodded silently (well...he didn't move his mouth -- I doubt I would have heard if he had spoken as it was so loud in the cafe). He turned, left and came back with Stephanie. After all these years she looked exactly the same -- the same raven-black hair and piercing gaze; I have to admit I still felt a little of the awe of her I had back in school. She smiled and arched an eyebrow while setting an elbow amiably on the bar next to me, "So where do I know you from?" she asked in a manner that gave me a start.

During our short conversation I completely revised my perception of her. It's funny how you can spend so many years around someone, never talk to her, and build up a persona in your mind of that person that would end up being so very wrong. Stephanie be friendly? I'd honestly never even considered the possibility. Maybe it was because she never really smiled...at least not around me. But she smiled tonight -- is this something that she learned how to do in the interim since high school? Or had i just never given her the opportunity to?

Anyways, after a few brief exchanges (she was mildly surprised to find that I was studying sculpture at college and advised me to stick with it) she rejoined her friends. We didn't know eachother, afterall. We had few things to say.

I turned back to my cheesecake and coffee. When i was finished I was a little disappointed to find that she'd compeltely disappeared from the cafe. On my way out I almost stumbled into her and friend again, but I turned in the opposite direction -- to my car.

I'd gotten what I'd come for.


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