:: Searching for Puck... ::

:: Monday, May 26, 2003 ::

So, evidently, I'm a slut and I don't care about anyone but myself.

This is straight from Trysh...or rather, should I say, through a third party source because Trysh decided to trash me while I wasn't around on the trip to seaside, which was, to quote an email I received,

"Let me say this and let me say this now: I HAVE to tell you what happened in person. I possess not the literary skills neccesary to deliever an image of just how nuclear-tastic last night was. You just have to see my emotes and there are just no amount of metahpors and allusions and the like that could properly describe exactly what Layer of Hell decided to creep it's way on the shore of seaside las night. Plus I do not think there is enough space in an AOL email that would do the Lovecraftian affairs of last night/this morning justice."

So, right about now, I am decidedly not regretting the decision I made to spend the evening with Gaby rather then Trysh. I've gotten bits and pieces from other people about the flaming disaster that was the seaside trip, and on all accounts it is agreed that Trish got far too drunk (per usual) and managed to piss off pretty much everyone. She even pissed off me, and I wasn't even THERE. That takes talent.

Normally, I would be beyond competency of speech, such is the level of rage I would normally feel at a jezebel harlot like that calling *me* a slut. But I believe I'm so beyond anger that I am actually calm. I think I'm finally fed up enough, and more importantly with proper mobility, to exist without Trish in my life. She's like smoking - you know it's bad for you but you can't kick it. I've been nothing but a friend to that worthless piece of whoring trash for so long, and all she's done is ditch and badmouth me. Fuck it. I'll probably be hanging out with her again by this time next week, but for now, I'm DONE, damnit.

I finally made my trip to the motherland (Barnes and Nobels) to celebrate being able to drive. I always said that when I drove, I would go to B&N. I picked up a latin quote book, a love quote book, a love photograph book, and a short story (of course) book. All very lovely things - especially the short stories - they're very odd...not a single story is over 55 words.

From there, Gaby called me and told me he wanted to hang out. So I got directions to where he was (New Brunswick), and, after several harrowing merges onto very busy highways that scared the daylights out of me, I made it to where he was. Then we went to the menlo mall with his brother Farid and one of his brother's business associates. Of course, it being sunday, the mall was closed by the time we got there. Gaby and I walked around a little, then we all piled into our cars and went back to Gaby's house. Farid thinks I am a 'crazy' driver...he says I ran two red lights, and there is NO way that happened. They turned yellow right before I went through, even Gaby says so.

In any case, it was a monmumental trip for yours truly, and a futile one, which irks me. I would much rather have just driven straight to Gaby's house and met him there. I stayed at his house for a few hours....it is a very nice apartment, but I feel awkward because Gab's bed is in the living room and we really can't be cuddly in front of his Bro. I respect that, of course, but it's strange. I like sneaking around from authority figures - hell, that was how I met Jon - but I guess it's only fun if the other person has the perspective and experience you do. It's like how some people think Nurse's costumes are sexy, but to a nurse, it's just a uniform.

In a way, feeling like a high school kid again is refreshing. But in a larger way, it's frustrating and constricting. I'm not sure what to make of it all. I like spending time with Gaby, of course. I suppose I'll just have to wait and see what is in store for the future. Heck, he might not even be staying here.

~Fox



:: Fox 5/26/2003 01:51:00 AM [Say what?] ::
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