Oh, hi Murphy, it’s me. Yeah, right you were…just rub it in why don’cha. Wall time: ~ 6 days. Execution time: ~ 3 hours… Woo, obsolescence.
So I don’t know… maybe I totally misread the events of the last couple weeks (they seemed like reasonable enough open-loop assumptions in the absence of any information to the contrary, but on the other hand, I’m just plain not good at this.) Maybe my anachronistic notions of dating, etiquette, chivalry, respect and other fossils are as outmoded as I am. But seeing the girl I kinda sorta thought was interested making out with some random guy we just met at a convention (with an existing primary girlfriend, no less) right in front of my nose after not much more than a name-and-number exchange (like jeez, at least wait until my back is turned or something…and as for you, dude, at least make an effort to call her by name without looking at the nametag) just leaves me to ponder a great many things.
I suppose that even the best protocol stack in the known universe isn’t much help if the physical layer implementation just isn’t a competitive offering. I was really kind of hoping that with the intelligent and logical girl I thought she was, that would not be such an issue as with the mindless forever-stuck-in-high-school crowd I have the mispleasure of being accustomed to, forever letting their reproductive organs make an end-run around their brains and exchanging meaningful conversation, common interests, even just general compatibility for fleeting hormonal bliss.
For some reason I’ve been cordially invited to tag along as nth wheel this Tuesday in some date-like coffeeshop setting, and who knows what else. But yeah…I’m thinking if I want to sit around generally ignored and watch strangers make out, I could just go to any random party. Now I am left just kind of confusedly wondering how to proceed from here. I guess I completely misread things, but after a divergence that spectacular (“I’m not insane…it’s just that my version of reality is beginning to diverge from reality’s version of reality.” – Me) I can’t help but wonder how far off I still am. And for some reason, in blatant defiance of logic, still just couldn’t seem to walk away. Should I? Could I, even, if I tried? Dear bloggg, didn’t we have this conversation before?
So anyway, the con itself:
I guess it’s one of those things that’s made or broken by the people you’re with. Ignoring all of the forgoing (admittedly, not the easiest thing in the world to do), it wasn’t bad. Hung out with J.R.; Iz* kind of came and went throughout the night, and also complained about ‘losing out’ to meowing guy (Vultures, every last on’na ya). G+M split early, but I think I have an open invitation to be tied up and dungeonized in some kinky and depraved manner sometime. Who knows, maybe someday, I’m game. J.R. and I went out and scarfed some pad thai, chicken + peanut sauce and a few other things at nearby Penang before returning. After bumming around looking for parties and being slightly disappointed at how quiet things were on the loud floors, a little before midnight we found some people who, as nonchalantly and indirectly as possible, invited us into a rocket fuel party. Interesting stuff, this – A bucket of water, one 750ml bottle of Everclear, one can each of concentrated lemon/lime for flavor, and the funnest ingredient of them all, dry ice. The claim being that when the whole concoction is frozen to a slushy consistency, the alcohol molecules are safely caged inside ice molecules, making it taste like the flavory stuff instead of booze. I’m a little suspicious of the science of all this, but it seemed to work out; it was definitely more tasty in frozen form, while the melted runoff had a bit of a grainy boozy taste. I took it easy though for a number of reasons. J had 2, claimed to be inebriated, but didn’t seem it. She managed to drag me out onto the dance floor somehow, where I made my usual feeble effort at not looking like a fool :-) . Finally we all braved the insane quantities of snow back to her place around 4-something, where she was still alert enough to play around on the computer! (Me, I pretty much crashed out immediately. Yay late nights office-ing and cexx-ing, heh)
Anyway, made my way back home the following early afternoonish (despite the horizontally-“falling” snow even 16 reference floors up), where the T was slowed to a crawl due to “the weather-related conditions”, as reported by the intercom system (they couldn’t have possibly meant SNOW, could they? Resisted urge to channel George Carlin and rant about rampant and unnecessary language expansion), to find my and my housemate’s cars both no longer in it. Woo, voyage to impound-ville tomorrow to retrieve them, picked fresh from the road that doesn’t actually have a right side or wrong side, because this is based on house numbers, which this street, to my knowledge, doesn’t actually have. War on city hall in the early planning phases, scraping together sizable amounts of green, fluid cash in the more immediate works.
Meh. It’s been my experience that sometimes life just likes to hand you a big warm pile of shit every so often. The saving grace is that 99% of the time it won’t kill you….and if it does, it can only do so once.
QOTD: “Creativity is the ability to see relationships where none exist.” – Thomas Disch
QOTD: “We play make-believe in such things as free will and destiny. But are we just machines, dancing on the gearworks of our chemistry?” – Me (Chemicals and Electricity)
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