Guess what I did today? I went to lunch with a guy I went on a date with once. As friends. I know. I know. Who the fuck cares? Me. I care. Even though we only went out once (I wasn’t interested because I decided I liked Phil), it’s still hard to bridge that gap. And normally, I just don’t wanna bridge the gap because I don’t need any more friends. But this guy is really sweet and we have lots in common because he’s working on a book, too. And he has lots of freelancing contacts.
[Can we just pause and talk about how cute my cat is for a second? He’s all sleeping next to my legs with his paws stretched out in front of him and they’re twitching because he’s having cat dreams that hopefully involve lots of mice and wet cat food that I ran out of.]
Anyhoo. Yay me. Yay new friends.
I emailed Angry Nun and asked him for a pic. AGAIN. And you know what he did? He asked me for my damn email address so he could send it there. But I figured out how to circumvent the problem of giving out my personal email with name. I just change my account so my last name doesn’t come up. It’s blowing my mind how smart I am. I figure by date 3 or 4 (if anyone makes it that far) they can know my last name and google the shit out of me.
I think I might be having coffee with Cali Boy tomorrow.
And for the debby downer bizness: I got sad about Phil again today. It’s weird. I still think about him—it (it being our very short-lived relationship…can I even call it that?)—that was only just a little longer than the time that we’ve not been dating. I know. Get over it.) I wasn’t thinking about it in a sentimental way. He just pops into my head from time to time, a wave of sadness comes over me, and then it washes away. I have a really hard time letting go (you think??). It’s sad when things are over, even if they should be over. And I have a lot of feelings.
Okay, so I just got an email from Canada, who has the coolest name—I wish I could tell you. He sent me to his myspace page and he’s this amazing musician. He’s all cute and bluegrassy and reggae-y. This, of course, means that I will develop an unnatural attachment to him early on and he’ll break my heart because he’s a visiting scholar at a museum here. Then back to Toronto he’ll go. Poof. I haven’t had much luck with bluegrassy musicians from Canada. In fact I’ve had terrible luck with this sort. But he’s just so damn cute and beardy and somehow wears a meshy trucker hat without looking like a douchie Ashton K wannabe.AND……i just got an email from Angry Nun. I literally yelled “Oh my god” when I saw the pic.
H.O.T. (Read: tall, skinny, nice eyes. Sort of a James Van Der Beek when he got older and lost the Dawson hair.)
(Thank you Edie. Thank you Clare. Thank you both for your support and advice. And thank you Warden at the DC Jail for Hot Men.)
Okay, I have to go get drunk and kick up my heels or something.