stella

i spent the latter part of last week trying to get my groove back after a balls-out shitty week. after being told that i perhaps acted a little too hastily in my "fuck you, don't ever call me" episode, i did the weird, crazy girl thing and texted him the next day with, "so you have nothing say? it's like you don't even care." and he (rightfully so) responded with, "what do you want to hear from someone you don't want to see? of course i care but you basically told me you'd rather have nothing to do with me than be friends so i'll respect that. i'll even hide behind a bush if i see you coming so it won't be awkward." i responded. he didn't. finally, i told him if he wanted to talk in person fine, if not, fine (enough of this texting bullshit). he said "you're always welcome to come over for a beer..."
the plan was for me to go over on tuesday. however, didn't quite happen.
i ended up texting him that night and said, "so are we still on?"

him: sure come on over and have this awkward conversation.
me: i can't tell if you're joking or being serious. i'm not trying to
have some long, awkward conversation. mostly i'm just coming to get
my beer. but we don't have to hang if you don't want.
him: i'm joking, of course. i'm pretty busy with writing again
tonight, and dealing with my idiot cousin. what time do you get out
of work tomorrow? early evening would work best for me.
me: i volunteer tomorrow. [granted, i could have skipped it, but i
didn't want to be that available.]
him: so what time are you done volunteering?
me: 8. in hollywood. so early evening won't work for me.
him: drat.
me: and this is where you suggest an alternate time. but i have dance
on Thursday.
him: how about i meet you at dance class?
me: ha. no. try again.

and that was that. he hasn't said anything since. at this point, i figure he probably won't, and now i'm just digesting the idea that we will probably never talk or see each other again. i figure, the sooner i get that in my head, the better off i'll be. regardless of how much it may hurt my feelings. ANYWAY, in an effort to distract myself from the grim realities of my situation, i went out on thursday for a friend's birthday. went to a bar downtown. i got hit on by a couple of guys, struck up conversations with them...i was feeling veeeeery stella. until the lameasses i was talking to got kicked out for being far too drunk and much too belligerent (not to me, just in general). ahhh, yes. i am officially back, i thought. back to attracting the young ones. you're 22, you say? of course you are!

sunday night wasn't much different. i went to a bar to watch the late game. there was one empty bar stool. i asked the guy next to it if it was free. he said it was. a few minutes later he struck up a conversation, and we discovered that we're both from dallas, went to school down the street from each other and know some of the same people. crazy. "what year did you graduate?" he asked. "'99," i said. "you?" all the while i'm thinking, "please don't say 2000 something, please don't say 2000 something." "2002," he said. damnit! seriously, i cannot shake this thing i have for attracting guys who are young (emotionally or literally) and who don't have their shit together. not saying this guy doesn't, but i mean...we know the odds. i gave him my number anyway because he was nice, and i thought he might be a good distraction, and i figured, "why fight it? clearly i am a magnet for these fools so i might as well embrace it. concede that i'm not going to be in a serious, stable relationship anytime soon and just try to enjoy what i get." yes, i would LOVE a mature, stable, available gentleman, but if the universe keeps bringing me the opposite, what's a girl to do?

i guess i could just say "no...", L.A.