devious lil weekend

It's official. I am a fucking ho and a bad person.

I went out with this dude recently, basically decided in advance that I was going to hook up with him, proceeded to throw down loads of drinks on Friday night and sledgehammered through the awkward 'Well...I'm going to go home...I think...what are you going to do?'

'I think I'll be coming home with you,' I said definitively. I have officially arrived at the point where, if I can have sex with someone, I generally will.

This guy is cool, nice, cute, good age, artsy...but I walked in there, heart un-thundering. I didn't feel like I was going to melt from nerves. The air was not crackling with uncertainty. I find this very odd, frankly. And it may have something to do with the general unhotness of our drunkish 3 am sex.

So, I keep on telling people, that I slept with him and that it was unhot. And quite suddenly it strikes me how tacky and sort of mean that is. But I guess in some ways I can't believe I'm not still a sixteen year old waiting for something to happen to me so I can spill out my entire life story. I have things that happen that do not have to be gleefully proferred to the public whenever an opportunity avails itself (or whenever I make it avail itself).

So, maybe I'll see him again. He was cool and clever and he is a talented musician and he has beautiful blue eyes, so I don't see why I shouldn't give him another shot. I think I was just eager to walk away from the whole idea of actually dating and liking someone. It's just a bit more terrifying than I thought. And I don't know if I'm ready to even start thinking about committing all that time and energy...unless I can't not do it (gods how I love a good double negative).

Other news: a whole four days without my beloved chariot Agnes due to general poor planning. But I actually had almos the entire weekend off, so I did a lot of walking and busing all over town. It was a fun little game to see who I could get to come pick me up. My ride karma is evening out ever so slightly.

The new Tom Spanbauer is not devouring my world so entirely as his previous works, but remains incredible nonetheless.

I may be looking into some new jobs that I could potentially not actively resent. Wouldn't that be a fucking reve realisé?!