05-02-04

Learning ar-ah-be and trust

sitting at my computer learning arabic, i am sure my roommates think i am nuts. But thats fine, i can give them references to prove it.

Last night i went to dinner with mummay, her and i went to Bar Louies where the food wasn’t anything impressive, nor were the drinks, but the waitstaff… oh yes, the waitstaff. I was in some mood or perhaps i would have enjoyed my conversation with the darling redheaded waiter a bit more, you know me and redheads :), but i just couldn’t pull myself out of the glass cleaning phase, even the long island did nothing to help, it just made me have to pee. So while i was peeng apparently my mummay dearest took it upon herself to slip the waiter my number. Hopefully it made his day, all it did was make me turn red on our way out as the entire male population of the waitstaff met us at the door and wished us well. Sigh…

Towards nine o’clock Mr. A called me. I wanted to cry, i don’t know why, maybe because i was happy i wasn’t rejected for being broken i suppose. He spilt mustard down the back of his pants. “don’t worry,” he told me “they were only banana republics.” Sigh…a tragic way for anything banana republic to die. Death by mustard, it should be a sin. But thankfully it was music to my ears. He really meant it when he said he would call me. For the first time ever “i’ll call you” was literal. It was odd.

So later that night i told mom about me and Mr. A, and the Lake Placid episode and the combination of the Lake Placid episode, Mr. A and me. She told me what i needed to hear…exactly what i knew only coming from someone else. She also told me to do something else, something extremely unappealing to me…talk about it with Mr. A. “He’s an unbiased third party, it might be what you need. Have him take it slow with you.” I broke down here, how do i jump into trusting people like that? I can’t, not anymore, she told me that it was alright, it happens with age. When i was younger and more naive… when i believed in unabridged fairytales i would have called her a pessimist, but ladies and gentlemen, there is a reason why the entire world may be viewed cynical in this area. Because it just happens. So here is the thing, I like Mr. A, enough to give him a first name in my blog, his name is steve. World, i would like to introduce you to steve. Steve….world. So now that the boy has an identity we will see where it goes.

and in the end, i bought a new pair of shoes. Black, classic dancing shoes, complete with straps and heel. yay!