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These Are Off Days
Mar. 31st, 2008 12:18 pmThings I did over the weekend:
1. Wrote bad poetry, with a toothbrush as central metaphor (it's actually a good metaphor, although not so metaphorical, but it can't fix the poetry)
2. Scared myself silly devouring Stephen King's Duma Key - the actual resolution of the horror? Not so hot, but the book… it worked for me surprisingly well. Plus, I devoured it and read it mostly straight through this weekend. (Things that did work – the narrator and his struggle to become himself again. The friendship at the heart of the story.)
3. Figured out the relationships in the space apocalypse/haunted detox story, and how they have to be different, and how they're gonna come together. Everyone's got ghosts. We forget that not all ghosts have to be dead.
4. Sort of got stood up by "lives too far away boy," despite him texting me on Saturday. As this meant that I stayed home and read and did not drive my ass down the coast while already exhausted, it was not a big deal. I was annoyed, but in the eye roll category of annoyed, not the hurt category. (By stood up, I mean I e-mailed and texted him about plans he had requested. Never heard back. Oh well.)
5. Got my hair cut to showcase the pink. Which means I seriously need to touch up the pink.
6. Ate a pyramid of fish at Blowfish (overpriced, too sceney, but fun. Plus, literal pyramid of raw fish!!!)
7. Completed the 7th and final first date from the list of internet dates. I think I will now re-evaluate the dating strategy. And maybe boys in general. For lo, I am very, very tired of them. Particularly as one of them suggested "The Frolic Room" on a Friday night, and me, trying to be low key about things, did not realize until I got there (annoyed beyond belief because parking over there is an expensive headache) that it was because it's close to his house and he DIDN'T HAVE A CAR! M., who is a dumb ass in many, many ways, was at least smart enough to know that in your 30s, you do not date in LA without a vehicle. That sounds terrible and callous, but this is not New York, people.
1. Wrote bad poetry, with a toothbrush as central metaphor (it's actually a good metaphor, although not so metaphorical, but it can't fix the poetry)
2. Scared myself silly devouring Stephen King's Duma Key - the actual resolution of the horror? Not so hot, but the book… it worked for me surprisingly well. Plus, I devoured it and read it mostly straight through this weekend. (Things that did work – the narrator and his struggle to become himself again. The friendship at the heart of the story.)
3. Figured out the relationships in the space apocalypse/haunted detox story, and how they have to be different, and how they're gonna come together. Everyone's got ghosts. We forget that not all ghosts have to be dead.
4. Sort of got stood up by "lives too far away boy," despite him texting me on Saturday. As this meant that I stayed home and read and did not drive my ass down the coast while already exhausted, it was not a big deal. I was annoyed, but in the eye roll category of annoyed, not the hurt category. (By stood up, I mean I e-mailed and texted him about plans he had requested. Never heard back. Oh well.)
5. Got my hair cut to showcase the pink. Which means I seriously need to touch up the pink.
6. Ate a pyramid of fish at Blowfish (overpriced, too sceney, but fun. Plus, literal pyramid of raw fish!!!)
7. Completed the 7th and final first date from the list of internet dates. I think I will now re-evaluate the dating strategy. And maybe boys in general. For lo, I am very, very tired of them. Particularly as one of them suggested "The Frolic Room" on a Friday night, and me, trying to be low key about things, did not realize until I got there (annoyed beyond belief because parking over there is an expensive headache) that it was because it's close to his house and he DIDN'T HAVE A CAR! M., who is a dumb ass in many, many ways, was at least smart enough to know that in your 30s, you do not date in LA without a vehicle. That sounds terrible and callous, but this is not New York, people.
