Being and Nothingness

19:28, 13 April 2003

God, why am I so fucked up? Because you know what came to visit today, don't you. Yes, yes. Revulsion. I was walking home from the gym, feeling happy about last night... and suddenly, a little twinge of Revulsion. Just momentary, fleeting-- but it was there. So small that I couldn't even pinpoint what exactly was revolting me.

While I was waiting for him to come get me so we could go study, I grew a bit agitated. I was worried the Revulsion would return upon seeing him. I was stressing the logistics of the greeting: would we do cheek-kiss like normal? or would it now be mouth-kissing? These are the things that keep me up at night.

He arrives. Cheek kiss greeting. No mentions of last night. No touching. All of this is in the "good" column, you know that, right? Because I had the Revulsion twinge earlier, and then in the car I had a Revulsion twang that I had to consciously force into a box in the corner of my brain like trying to stuff your carry-on under your airplane seat when it's clearly too big. It really helped that he hasn't been affectionate or anything today. (I am so opposite every girl on earth! Most girls would freak that he didn't like them! And I'm like breathing sighs of relief! Ha!)

Where has my Pillsbury doughboy gone?

Library. Uneventful silent studying. I realised I have not studied in, like, weeks. No Revulsion because I was trying not to think about it. See, I could list here the things that were revolting me, but that would just make me think about them. We left at six. I thought we were going to stay for a long time.

So now I'm back here. Alone. In my darkening apartment. Again. I hate this part. There is nothing I want to do. I'm not tired. I don't want to organize my shit. I don't want to balance my checkbook. I'm not hungry. I'm just... nothing.

Pillsbury Doughboy

11:07, 13 April 2003

OK, this is so much more of a civilized time to be up when one has gone to sleep at 06:00. Not like I haven't been up since 8ish because I'm a freak. And this has to be quick since I have to get my fat fucking ass to the gym before I call my pre-almost-notquite-boyfriendish Piyush to wake the lazy bastard up at 12:30. How do people sleep that late? I don't comprehend.

So last night, in fuller detail: As I'd promised Piyush, I did not touch the sauce before his arrival. I hit the diet pills of course, because hey, you gotta give me something, right? They made me happy as a pig in shit and totally socially ept. Witty as fuck. The entire table was cracking up at everything I said. Laughing with me, I swear.

We went to Pig n' Whistle in Hollywood. The vibe was so cool and the DJ was playing all sorts of fab hip-hop. Think "Still Not a Player" by Big Pun, "Holler Back, Young'un" by Fabolous, "Roll Out" by Ludicrous (that's for you, Kristen!) etc. How do we spell doubleplusgood? Yeah.

I drank about four rum & diet Cokes (plus one kamikaze to get the party started) and was a fabulous drunk-enough-to-be-witty/not nervous/having a great time/social, etc. God, that level is so much better than the smashedness that normally characterizes my nights out. And less expensive! (Not like I paid for a damn thing.)

So Piyush and I started out the night with casual, innocent leg-touching-leg "coincidences". As the hours and alcohol increased, it morphed into him having his arm around me as I sat at the bar and he stood next to my chair. And then when I was standing he was behind me with his hands clasped around my stomach or on my hips, making me feel so protected and warm and loved. Sigh. Cue Pillsbury doughboy.

I was talking to Marc, the German guy, a lot last night. I totally tried to probe him about what Piyush thinks about me but he wouldn't give up the ghost. (Goddamn trustworthy people; they are the worst informants!) I found out later that Marc used to have a thing for me and there's some submerged jealousy there that probably made him not want to encourage my wanton madness about Piyush.

We all left after having a fabulous time. Piyush didn't even ask if I wanted his jacket; he just put it on me as we walked out into the chilly, misting rain. He was freezing and I was not. And he thought that was just fine. Return of the doughboy.

We dropped Marc off and at my apartment he surprised me by saying: "Where should I park?" As in: he was coming upstairs. He hadn't asked me; I hadn't invited. Not that I was upset, I was just surprised, that's all. Up we went and I offered him a drink, which turned into us killing a bottle of my favourite Reisling (Badger Mountain Reisling; it is available at Whole Foods and comes in this whacked out blue bottle...it's so freaking good. Get thee to the shop and stock up. Even if you hate white wine, you will be converted.)

We talked and I was saying how nervous I was normally and how comfortable I felt around him... or rather, less nervous than normal. He's all: "You have no reason to be nervous..." etc. etc. Finally he takes my hand and pulls me over, saying, "C'mere" and kisses me. Oh, man, for a girl that hates kissing, I was having the greatest time. I was awkwardly propped up on my arm and it was shaking and on the verge of collapse and I didn't fucking care. Please, sir, may I have another? When we broke away he said, "You are so beautiful." Well, thank you. Excuse my while I faint into a mush of happiness on my floor.

After that we were all cuddly and he was saying how he'd started liking me at the Standard Downtown night but felt all thwarted because Marc had a thing for me and he didn't want to get in the way of that. But then it became obvious that I was into him and not Marc and so we started chatting online and hanging out and... and... and... well, you know the rest.

He left at fucking six in the morning. I went to bed smiling. I woke up smiling, enveloped in a cloud of his fabulous cologne that was in my hair. We're going to study today, at school. I don't care, as long as I'm in the same damn room as him. I am so fucking retarded and I know I'm setting myself up for disappointment, so don't even bother to warn me. Kristen told me yesterday that I should have fun with it while I'm in the midst of my doughboy delirium. And so I shall.

Now, off to the gym. Today is weights routine because if I step on the cardio machine I will die. DIE. There will be more pathetic, gushy updates after I hang out with Piyush and see how the post-hookup vibe is.

Glee

06:03, 13 April 2003

Heee the fucking hee hee hee. I am so fucking retardedly giddy right now it is insane. Six in the morning. This is when I usually wake up. And Piyush just left. God, please wipe the goddamn smile off my face!

Out we went, to the Pig n' Whistle. Drinky drinky drinky and Piyush is all wrapped around me wherever I am: dancing, sitting, drinking, etc. At one point he leans over and says: "In the short time I've known you... I really like you." Man, my face practically cracked in half with that smile. And so I knew I was in like Flint.

He drove me home. He came up. And finally, finally, he kissed me. One of those "c'mere" kisses, where we'd been talking about how no guys hit on me at bars because I'm so "intimidating," whatever. And he pulls me over to kiss him and it was fucking phenomenal. Like, I really enjoyed it. And he's all: "I'm going to rid you of this self-esteem problem." Ha. How simplistic, my boy... but I like your style. He likes me! He likes me! And I like him. And that's all that matters for the time being. Now that it's ass-crack early, I'm going to sleep. Tomorrow, we study together. My face hurts because my giddy smile is stretching it to the limit.