Monday, November 22, 2004



When she's exhausted from a week of conferences, in her pajamas reading at 7:00-ish Friday night, when the phone rings and Freud calls her and asks her if she wants to hang out for a couple of hours while he packs to go to Florida?

You guessed it, I went over there. Figured it would smooth things over after the drama of the early part of the week. Also, he promised I'd be home by 10:30. The short version of the story is...
  1. I went over there and we hung out for a couple of hours and it was fun.
  2. Come 10:30 Freud was kind of drunk though I was not - he didn't want to go to sleep (as had been his plan) but feared his ability to wake up at 8AM as he had to the next morning and so it was decided that I would sleep over because I would definitely wake up and would wake him up.
  3. We went out to a bar and I proceeded to beat Freud as well as all of his friends at pool, not because I'm some sort of awesome pool-shark but rather because I suck at pool and I wear my opponents down to the point that they scratch and lose the game.
  4. Some of his friends appear to have a misperception that Freud and I are a couple or at the very least that we are in a couple-y sort of thing. This is no big deal, except for that one friend who got this impression is the person through whom he met the Date Girl and apparently the friend was pissed off at him and threatened to tell Date Girl "who he really is," i.e., that he's dicking her over with me. Whatever. It's all so stupid and Melrose Place.
  5. No non-platonic drama, though Freud hinted at such. Crazy told him the following: "We decided all that was over with at the beginning of the week." Freud was confused, as we had explicitly decided no such thing. I decided it because he's a freak.
  6. Freud brought up the Tuesday night telephonic argument and claims still to be hurt by the things I said. I told him he needs to get over it.

Anyway, that's the basic version of the night. There are other things I could report related to moments in our conversations of the night/morning, which would indicate that Freud is madly in love with me although he doesn't realize it, but I will refrain, as all previous attempts correctly to interpret Freud's actions/statements have failed. Suffice it to say I don't regret hanging with him on Friday night, I'm glad he's in Florida for a week, and I'm definitely happy that nothing happened to complicate the friend-thing that we seem to be trying to do.

In other news, I accomplished ZERO this weekend, and I don't think I care.

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