Monday, August 23, 2004


What to Make of All This?

Well, my readers, the semester has officially begun, and I'm actually feeling kind of energized after having taught my first two classes. This may have to do with the vast amount of caffeine I've consumed this morning as well, but I also (geekily) am excited to be back in the classroom. What is bizarre is that when I walked in there today it was almost as if the summer had never happened - I just picked up where I left off in the Spring. I guess that makes sense, that I felt immediately comfortable, now that this is my second year at good old Regional Crap University. Anyway, I'm very excited to see what my students will turn out to be like, and I'm hopeful that they will be fun and interesting instead of being lame and contentious. The 9am class seems like it might be better than the 10am, but at this point it's too early to tell.

Now, on to my weekend.

Friday night: After a colossal struggle with building my new tv stand thingie, I took a shower and tried to decide what to do. Some colleagues were getting together, and I considered going but ultimately didn't want to. Then I called up Naomi, who had no plans to go out because she's broke (the life of a separated grad student is not one rich in material resources). So, that left me without real plans. I figured I'd call up Freud around 9, but before I got the chance to do so, he called me. He asked me what I was doing, I invited him over, he was evasive, and he said he'd call me later. Well, to make a long story short, Freud called me about 7 times between the hours of 9 and midnight, and I ended up (after all of that) meeting him and some friends at a bar near his place. It was fun, but uneventful, except for that Freud convinced me to do a shot of tequila with him (mistake) in spite of my initial reticence. I told him that if he made me do it I would not be ok to drive home but would have to stay at his place, and he smiled and bought me the shot. So, we go back to Freud's house, I hang out for a bit but around what I suppose was around 4 am I went into his bedroom, stripped naked (I was totally drunk), and went to sleep. Apparently Freud hung out with all of the peeps at his house until like 6 am. As I was dead to the world, I'll have to take his word for that.

Saturday Morning/Afternoon:
10 am: I awaken to find myself naked (?) and snuggled with myself beneath the comforter. Freud is next to me, on top of the comforter and with a pillow carefully placed between us, bedding apparently serving as a prophylactic to separate him from any physical contact with me. I think to myself, "ok, well, clearly he just wants to be my friend, and that is fine," I get up, go to the bathroom, put on my tank-top and underwear, and crawl back into bed. More sleeping.

11 am: The alarm is going off. Why is the alarm set? Oh yes, because last night Freud had decided that we should go to a local amusement park for the day. I wake him up and make him turn off the alarm. We have a sleepy, hung over conversation, during which he tells me that he's not going to hook up with me anymore because he wants a relationship. Huh? Isn't he the person who said that he didn't want a relationship? I was confused, said something about having never given him the impression that I wanted a relationship (which, in retrospect, probably was not what I was supposed to say at that moment), he said something about needing to be "good," called me an "evil witch" who was trying to bring him over to the dark side or something, I told him he was ridiculous and that I was totally fine with us being just friends. Then, he asks me how many serious relationships I've had, and when I tell him two, he tells me that I'm fucked up. I asked him how many he's had and he said 3 or 4. Remember, this guy is 26. He has, like, never not been in a relationship, if what he says is true. I said to him that I probably take real relationships much more seriously than he does, that when I fall I fall hard and so I don't enter into such commitments lightly, and then I proceeded to go into the kitchen and drink all of his apple juice. More sleeping.

3:30 pm: Woops. We slept the whole fucking day. I inform Freud of this fact, and he exclaims that we must salvage the day by going to the local amusement park when the price goes down at 5. I'm so hung over and confused that the usually not-spontaneous me is convinced that this is a plan that makes sense. I agree. He then makes me a french bread pizza and actually utters the words "biological clock" in reference to me, then asking me if I'm "one of those women who wants to have a baby on her own." I called him a misogynist, but was pleased because earlier theories about the reasons behind his fake pregnancy scare were confirmed. (By the way, as I'm writing this he looks like more of an asshole than he actually is - this was all said in a jokey sort of conversation, and I don't want to be too hard on the poor idiotic boy.)

Saturday Night: So Freud and I go the amusement park and ride roller coasters for five hours. And it was totally fun. And I actually enjoyed being with him and felt like he was attempting to entertain me. And, in spite of the fact that I had earlier thought that we had solidly established ourselves as "just friends," it felt fucking date-y. Adding to this date-y feeling was the fact that when we left the amusement park, as we were driving home, he asked me if I wanted to rent a movie and watch it with him when we got back to his place. Now, remember, we'd been together for about 24 hours at this point, and I hadn't anticipated that he'd want to hang out with me more. I don't know. It's all really weird. So, we rented School of Rock, watched it, and then I said "well, I think it's time for me to go home and sleep in my own bed now," and he said, "yeah, I need to go to sleep, too." Now, he had already told me like five times what an awesome time he had with me that day/night, but as he was walking me out he said it yet again, and I replied that I felt the same way. Then, he opened the door, and I was just going to walk out, as again, I thought we'd decided that I wasn't supposed to be affectionate with him because it's wrong for whatever reason, but then he went in for a hug, and so we had a really nice hug goodbye. And then I drove off into the night.

So who the fuck knows. He might not in fact be trying to friend me but trying to girlfriend me, and because I'm so retarded, I don't really know how that whole thing works. And I don't know really whether I want to be girlfriended. I suspect that all of this will be defined in some way shape or form within the next month. There's no way it could go on in this half-assed fashion for longer than that. I just don't have the energy for it.

In other news, my favorite imaginary boyfriend from last year, the Rocket Scientist, sent me an email and apparently still loves me. (Caveat: he neither loves me now nor did he ever love me in the past for real - but he does serve as an excellent imaginary distraction for me during the academic year because he's always so interested in what I'm doing and is very flirty via email.) By the way, Rocket Scientist is the pseudo-ex who manufactured a pregnancy scare for me (which I discussed on 8/12/04) and who tried to woo me with Steinbeck. Perhaps it is fate that he's gotten back in touch with me as all of this stuff with Freud is happening? Hard to know. I do love him with a love that is pure and true, though. And I am so glad that he lives far, far away and can't prove a real distraction at this particular time. Would love to see him again, though.... Hmmmm......

Ok, so that is enough of the boy-crazy nonsense for one day. I need to get back into TCB mode so as not to waste all of my first-day-of-school-energy on idiocy.

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