07/13/00
"Her apron strings are trailing out like sparks...slicing up the dark...I'm her twin, I live in the other half...tearing at the seams, but it never comes apart...We've a chain to keep alive, it's all this noise that makes us thrive...I try to trap her in my head, but she knows where the light comes in...those rays love to make her spin..."
Ohmyfuckinggod.
That pretty much sums up the way I feel about events since I've returned from the Sunshine State.
Tuesday, I walked the dogs per usual with Zak. We were leaving, and I asked him, "do you have air conditioning?" He said yes. I said, "good, because I may show up later if I get bored." He further extended the invitation. So at around 7:30 or so, I drove the few blocks to his house. It was purely platonic. We watched the latest James Bond movie (which sucked sucked SUCKED, God, the one-liners are so damned cheesy and are any of the women real?) and he offered me a Pepsi, he smoked his nightly joint and we just basically shot the shit like a couple of buddies.
Then his dog, being the whore all Golden Retrievers are, hopped into my lap, letting his head rest on my thighs while I scratched his belly. He wouldn't let me move. I mentioned, "your dog is very, very happy." He said, "I would be too, I wish I was in his position right now."
Okay...
Thus continued the evening until I got up to leave around 10:00. I said something else about how Rex is now my best friend, and Zak again noted his jealousy. I told him "you'll get your turn." He said, "oh, really?"
And then I did it. When you think something really fucking hysterically funny, and intend to giggle politely to yourself, but instead your mouth opens and the thought that has no business anywhere but in your head comes pouring out uncontrollably? I said these exact words: "Yeah, I'm like a ride at Worlds of Fun, everyone gets a turn."
WHAT THE FUCK????!!!
Number 1: how completely fucking cheesy and trailer-park a comment to make. Worse than any Bond girl could have said.
Number 2: now I'm sure he thinks I'm a total fucking whore. Which I am, but he doesn't need to know that. I do have some standards, as indicated by my complete lack of action for the last year or so.
But he didn't act on it at that moment. He walked me to the door, thanked me for coming over, told me to come back again anytime. And that was it.
Jumping Jesus on a Pogo Stick.
Megan was already home from class when I got there. I told her where I had been and what we had been doing, leaving out the sexually frustrated banter parts. She said "you must find him way more interesting than I do." Which is true. Then she said something that really pissed me off, although I didn't say so. She said, "I look at him and I think, 'potential client.'" I mean, what a shitty thing to say. So, what do you see when you look at ME, sweetheart? Not that it matters now, anyway, but still. Has she thought of me as "less than" all this time? And how have I managed to put up with someone who is such a damned snob and yet has no right to be, because her own family, education or no, is about as trailer park trash as you can get?
Anyway, I kept my mouth shut because it wasn't a battle worth fighting. You can't win an argument with Megan because she's always right. Just ask her.
And then I went to bed and had a dream about him that was so real, I actually wondered when I woke up if Megan had heard me sneak back into the house upon my return... In the dream, I snuck out and went to Zak's. It was a pretty platonic dream, although there was kissing involved...at one point he asked me, "so if we're going to do this boyfriend/girlfriend thing, is there anything special I have to do?" and I replied, "just be honest with me." Interesting. Then my ex-husband showed up and just kind of hung out (dreams are so fucked up) and I finally left after Zak fixed the side mirror on my car (which I ripped off in the parking garage at The Firm about a year ago). Strange days indeed, most peculiar, mama...
So yesterday, I went to get my car inspected. It passed, surprising no one more than me. It took them 3 damn hours, and I dropped it off at 9:00 in the morning, for Christ's sake. And I was wearing un-sensible shoes and carrying a purse, so I figured it wouldn't be wise to trek it home only to have to walk back again. So I hung out in Brookside, sitting on the sidewalk and reading the Pitch and writing and wasting time. By the time I got my car back, I was a nervous wreck, wondering what was going to happen at 6:00 and beyond, wondering if I should clarify that my remark of the previous evening was only a joke, wondering if any of it really mattered at all...
So I was sitting in the grass with my dogs when he arrived at the field. He threw Rex's big rubber anal-plug toy toward us and it hit me in the head. I threatened to kick his ass and he grabbed me by the ankles. I told him "don't you dare make me drop this cigarette" and he took me down, although not with enough force to actually hurt me. Hell, I don't even think the ashes fell from my cigarette. My first instinct was to kick him very hard, but I was overwhelmed at being in such close physical proximity to this man that all I could say was "you're lucky I didn't drop this cigarette."
We talked some more, and then I asked him what "fine piece of film we'll be partaking of tomorrow night, because I plan to be bored again." He looked at me and said, "you're coming over tomorrow night?" Yes. "Not tonight?" No, I have things to do, hahaha, LIE but you don't need to think I'm too eager. "We could make our own movie." Uh, no. "So you're coming over to my house and getting naked tomorrow night but not tonight?" In your dreams, pal.
Crude though the whole exchange was, it was little more than "horseplay." (Or in this case, would it be "whoresplay?") Still, I have to admit I am now pissing on myself wondering if I know what I'm getting myself into. What if he turns out to be a raging psycho and rapes me at gunpoint? What if he just wants a quick easy fuck and doesn't speak to me after the fact? Am I just being schizophrenic now because what I've been plotting for the last 2 months might finally fucking happen? An excerpt from my (paper) journal entry of last night... (I keep several paper journals that I write in sporadically, so if Megan ever decides to read them, she won't know what the fuck is going on) :
But wait, there's more...