s'been a pleasant day/night. charles is back, although I've yet to see him, grr. some apartment cleaning has brightened up the place. slept late and actually have energy for once.

ali and I went to see "far from heaven." don't waste your money. we were looking forward to it so much, and we were both disappointed. too overdramatic. seemed more like a lifetime movie than an oscar contender to me.

so last entry I wished for better dreams. I don't know about better, but try this out: it was my b-day dinner again, but this time at shoney's. josh h. brought a date--a tall, hot guy with dark hair that didn't say much. before josh he only dated chicks, so he was kind of self-conscious.

then he and josh both started flirting with me to make each other jealous. I thought it was juvenile. later a bunch of us went back to my parents' house to party--only the house was huge, with a bedroom for all 6 or so of us there.

said hot guy ended up naked in my bed and we did all sorts of fun things. I kept thinking, "why's he sleeping with ME when josh is right there?" and "josh is going to go over to this guy's room to sexually surprise him and find him gone...that may suck." alas, I awoke before drama unfolded.

so what was it? my desire to win out over josh in the guy department for once? or some half-assed subconscious way of expressing my desire for josh himself...? I mean, as long as I keep seeing him and knowing him he's always going to be on the back burner of the stove of my thoughts, heh. it's something I've learned to deal with since acknowledging that it ain't ever gonna happen. you can love someone without LOVING THEM, for cryin out loud. and I've got charles, for which I'm profoundly grateful.

gonna keep working on my bottle of wine while I wait for the evening to unfold...

blecch. four hours on the guilfordian today and the damn thing isn't done. I had to beg off to james as being tired, which I fucking well am. I get really irritated working with vera and robbie sometimes, but I wish they were here this week to share the burden.

I did have some fun tonight, though. the apartment+gabe and hannah went to the blue hour for jazz and overpriced liquors. I love that place, but it's gotta be a special occasion to warrant shelling out the dough. at least the guy playing the standing bass was hot.

speaking of special occasions, I don't like being 22 years old, dammit. 21 is the certified partying age, so once you hit 22 you start realizing that you'll have to start being responsible at some point in your life. responsibility sucks. sigh.

going to sleep soon, and I REALLY hope I don't have a dream as disturbing as last night's. for some background info, this urban legend: on the ohio players' recording of "love rollercoaster," there's a woman's scream in the background (rollercoaster, makes sense). legend was that a girl burst into the studio pissed off about something and that the manager stabbed her to death to shut her up...while the group was recording the song, and the scream was left on tape (see snopes.com for more details). it's totally untrue, but my dream last night was an exact recreation of the legend. I woke up all freaked out. bad scene. God, let me dream about sexy boys instead this time? please?

don't usually post online quiz results, but this one just made me too happy:


Which guy are you destined to have sex with?
brought to you by Quizilla

thought I'd post some more creative crap. unlike most of my poems, I genuinely like this one.

Nutmeg

We sit on the dirty rug
Stoned out of our minds
Listening to some bisexual
Folk singer, I don’t know who
And flying high above this
Dingy midtown apartment

We laugh about men
We cry about men
We color Scooby-Doo
We ponder the peeling paint
And find fluffy rabbits
In the brown water stains

Maybe we should go to the
Grand Canyon, spend weeks
Staring at the stars and reading
Rimbaud while we try to catch
Fish and end up resorting to
Beef jerky sustenance

Then again, maybe we’re both
A couple of phonies, two cubic
Zirconias pretending to be diamond
Reincarnates of the beats, Cassidy
And Kerouac maybe—but does it
Matter, as long as we believe in it

Time will tell as we age I suppose
If we act in bit plays and spend
Our last pennies hitching to the
West coast with gray in our hair
And crow’s feet from so many
Years of laughter and smiles

the most terrible thing happened on friday. charles' dad died. I don't know why; no one said, and I didn't want to push him to talk at the time. charles stayed over that night and his mom picked him up on saturday. he seems to be doing ok. I can't even imagine what I would do.

it made me think about some things. first of all, I think it's really sad that charles never came out to his dad. now he never can. I haven't really come out to mine, either, when you get right down to it. but it's such a tough thing. the dads are always the hardest. I mean, I have the greatest dad in the world, no doubt. he's a liberal enough guy and there's no way that he would stop loving me or anything crazy like that. still...there's always that fear. well, when he and mom get my wedding invitation in a few years maybe he'll figure it out, heh.

also, I really and truly love charles. we've been exchanging the l-word for a while now, and I've always felt good about it. but taking care of him this weekend brought my thinking to another level--I'm so maternal, and I always gravitate toward others' weaknesses and tough times. realizing that I can be strong for him and help him made me feel really good. so, in turn, it can be said that he made me feel really good. which brought the whole love business home somehow. I dunno. it's just nice.

yesterday was great, though. dinner at lucky 32 was awesome--we had 14 people I think, including me and the 'rents. I hung out a lot with carra and ashley. hannah was here quite a bit, too, which was cool. I wonder what next weekend will bring.

except my parents' coming made me start thinking for the billionth time how lucky I am to have them, and how guilty I should feel that they are so good to me. I am so fucking spoiled. I cost them so much money, and I don't make any of my own. so whenever they do something really nice for me I start to feel 1) guilty because I probably don't deserve it, 2) self-hatred for not being that generous myself, and 3) scared shitless because I know that there will come a time soon when I have to rely solely on my own finances, which I'm sure will not support my high standard of living. none of my immediate career plans entail making even a fifth of my dad's salary, and I may never do as well as he does now. not that money is everything, but it's something. and it worries me that I may have to do without a lot of the things I take forgranted now. anyway.

so the other night I had this amazing sex dream about "hot chris." that's this guy who...well, his name is chris and he's hot (and bi, but that's moot at the moment, ay?) it was a really vivid dream, and it keeps entering my thoughts.

well, today ali and I were stopped at the light on arcadia when someone runs up to the passenger side window and knocks--yep, him. asking me what my license plate means, heh. it was SO random. I practically drooled all over the steering wheel. I wanted yell after him "so you don't really know me, but I had this dream where..."

speaking of sleep...