drunkencynic's Diaryland Diary


tick tick tick

I find that as JR's departure date draws nearer (early Monday morning- two days from now) he becomes more and more vital to me. I can't go for very long without thinking of him. I want him, I want to talk to him, I want to see him. It's like I'm stocking up, like whales storing fat for the winter.

It's strange. When I first 'met' Milo, I wanted to talk to him all the time, I wanted to exchange information, I wanted to know. With Thomas it was different. Thomas was more like a drug I became addicted to. I knew it wasn't good for me but I needed that fix.

And JR? JR is everything. I want to see him, talk to him, listen to him, look at him, kiss him, etc. It's almost like it was with Milo, that incredible gorgeous thrill of first being in love, only it's different, because it's not about being in love, it's about friendship and discovery and fun and the possibility of love.

The more I ramble the less I express my mind.

I took the SAT today! Woohoo! For the second time. Before and after (and hopefully not during) which my brain/common sense ceased rather dramatically to function. I forgot how to drive. And I called Elena's dad "Frank" (his name is not Frank. It's Bill). So yeah, cross your fingers for me.

Elena and I went over to JR's to drop off some CDs I copied for him (The Smashing Pumpkins- Adore, Fountains of Wayne, and Jeff Buckley- Grace). And I wound up drunk and she slightly tipsy. And we headed off to the movies. Where we watched one of the most horrible movies I will ever see. I'm not even going to name the movie because it was so bad and I'm embarassed I even shelled out my money for it. Uh, that should read, 'Elena's money'. :) But I was drunk and whining, "I wanna see a moooovieeeee...." and Underworld had already started (a movie which, although probably rather horrible in itself, cannot possibly beat the one we saw).

On the way home we sang along super-loudly to a cranked-up Rent in the car. It was perfect, one of those things we'll remember.

JR bought a $90 bottle of champagne. It's the "yay you're not pregnant" champagne. He was stoked.

I most certainly was, too. But I have to admit that there is always a little part of me that gives a tiny little sigh and goes, "yeah, well, it would have been a disaster anyway". I don't know why I have this part of me. It's my domesticity rearing its ugly head. My mom's child-manufacturing gene popping up.

I guess I'm like those little girls who play with their dolls and have this romanticized view of marriage and parenthood. I don't want it now. I'm not ready for it now. But I mean, think about it. It's not your parents. Why does your life have to suck? It would be your marriage, with the person you hand-pick, whom you are completely, head-over-heels in love with and want to spend the rest of your life with, and the kids that come from both of you, look like you, whom you can teach to be smart and funny and cool and like the Beatles.

Life seems so open. And that weird little gene in me is going, "Okay, it's about time now, I think... you know in medieval terms you're about four years late..."

Even though I know it would be the worst thing that could happen to me at this point and wouldn't allow it for anything.

Show me a million and we'll talk.

11:02 p.m. - 2003-10-11


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