I Get the Muth'fuckin Picture
Amelia and Heather hosted another dinner party last night, which was larger, and more boisterous than the last. Bioligists, most of them, so the table-talk had to consistently be re-directed away from nasty topics (like parasitic worms, for instance). Eventually I acquiesed and contributed to the un-table-talk-ish table-talk when someone mentioned a "eurethra fish" which (by their legend-like knowledge) lodges itself inside a (most likely) male's eurethra by attraction to urine's acidity (no peeing in Aboriginal streams, fellas).
I'm sure you wonder what I could possibly have offered a conversation like that and I'll tell you.
I told the little story about my first tattoo when I tried to distract myself by reading a chart on genital piercings and "in through the eurethra, out through the head" played across my mind like a stuck record. Therefore (and there ought to always be a one of those) we decided to call these buggers "Prince Albert Fish" which can be described as "in through the eurethra, out through the operating room."
There. Fascinating evening, I tell you.
Red wine and Knobb Creek kept me chatty through topics of religion, family, music, oh... and Joe.
Ashley, Heather, and Amelia are the only people in the world I can't refrain from talking about Joe with, apparently. I mean, I didn't even tell the physicists until a week later, when we went out and they asked.
#1: Heather and I ran into Winter at Kroger before dinner, and I think I sounded still very angry, so I apologized to Winter for being "hateful" and asked that he tell Joe hello.
#2: a couple of the girls saw Joe at the Vid Friday (part of me wishes I'd been there, but I told the girls no after the opera and opted to sit at home and pout; maybe it's best I wasn't there) and they said they debated on how to "treat" him (since they'd all been invited to the opera when he baled, they all knew the events of the night, basically). Fortunately they were just polite and said hello, but he didn't even recognize them at first. Heh.
#3: In the middle of dinner Joe messages me to ask if I'm "okay" and still mad.
Between those three things it was impossible to leave him out of my conversation, especially with the more I drank.
Ashley brought me home around two, and I have a hunch she and I might end up being roommates.
This morning Joe messaged me again, so I logged on to AIM - feeling that might be the best mode for conversation. We established that his intentions are to engage in short-term distance so it's not necessary in the long-term. Something like that. That's how explains his empty eyes and mechanical voice.
Then he left to eat cereal.
So I emailed him with all my thoughts because I'm just tired of thinking them. Now they're out and I can rest my mind. Maybe I'll sleep better now.
I'm compliant, though. His way is fine with me. But I'm glad he knows my thoughts now and how unexpected all this drama really is to me.
I can be distant if he wants distance because asking for attention from the unwilling is just plain silly and I was silly when I was a child but now I am a woman, right?
In other news, why is the ACLU sending me shit?
Be prepared for the inevitable rant which will follow as soon as I read this edition of Rolling Stone which boasts to contain "the 500 greatest albums of all time".
The top ten are:
10 - The White Album
9 - Blonde on Blonde
8 - London Calling
7 - Exile On Main Street
6 - What's Going On
5 - Rubber Soul
4 - Highway 61 Revisited
3 - Revolver
2 - Pet Sounds
1 - Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band
