Everyone's in love with you
They fall down at your feet
And impale themselves knowin' full well
You'll only watch 'em bleed...
You want everyone to want you
But you don't want anyone to need you
'Cause baby you don't need to
--- Steve Earle, "Everyone's In Love With You"
Man, those lines could have been written expressly for the Maddening Angel. She's so social and outgoing and loving and loveable, and she shuts down so quickly when people start to show they're serious about her. In other words, I guess, she's easy, she has low self-esteem, and she doesn't want to be loved.
Last night after watching TV at my parents' house (the final four episodes of the late, great "Arrested Development"), I drove over to the Hangout. It was like old home week. One of the Friar's bands was playing. I talked a bit with the singer from another of his label's roster. I sent Ram a text message, because I'm a sap. Played bowling with the Friar and joked around a bit with Sonar's gorgeous wife. The drummer from Auric's band showed up as well. W was there too. I hung with her a bit while she played pool. Around 2:30 she said she was going home to smoke and asked if I wanted to join her. I've never been interested in that kind of recreation, but this is the era of New Things for ol' Chance, so I followed her to her apartment. We lay on her bed smoking and watching Mr. & Mrs. Smith. She said I could crash there, but I wasn't feeling tired, and anyway I told my father I'd lend him my cell phone that morning. So I took my leave and drove home, getting to bed around 5:45 a.m. I haven't stayed out like that since high school.
Now, this may seem a bit foolish, but the question that rattles around my brain now is, was W coming on to me in any way? I assume she wasn't, as she was clearly trying to get herself oblivious as quickly as possible, but I can't say for sure. I have almost no experience with this kind of hanging out and what it might entail.
Homework today. Lots of assignments due next week.
More telephone drama with MA. She has a "Valentine's dinner" tonight, whatever that means. (Obviously, I have a camera click-click-clicking in my head cataloguing all the possibilities.) I'm hopelessly stuck on her and she's not into me. That's the whole lame story right there.
Saturday, February 11, 2006
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