misslizzers (misslizzers) wrote,

Misguided intentions and money to burn

Is there an astrologer in the house? There is something frustrating operating in the cosmos. If anyone actually read this blog, I would take a poll asking if they're having an extra specially hard time with inanimate objects, and if they're finding everyone's energies operating at cross purposes. Yesterday, for example, I think I cursed at my hoodie twice, my seatbelt five times, got another paper cut, and managed to forget to pick up the directions after I set them down.

Then there's the matter of attraction, what is it good for. I got the distinct feeling that my little sister's friend was trying to make a pass at me and I basically raced out of the house. And when I met the guy Susan was secretly trying to set me up with, he confessed his hard-core crush on *her* while she was in the bathroom. Under this heading, I could also put her stubborn vow not to give up her apt., which I think could be a *lot* more trouble than it's worth, and I'm really worried that they'll hack out some peace agreement where she's not allowed to stockpile any weapons in self-defense and has to subsidize the care and feeding of his nation's tired, hungry, and mentally ill. Don't get me wrong - I'd love to see her win, but if there was ever a chink in time when she could do so and still look like a nice person, I think he's stuck his thumb in it.

And then, there's the matter of my own misplaced affections . I met this guy at a reading the other night. He read a Corso poem, and I was impressed by how funny, at ease and good natured he was at the mic, aside from the obvious smarts and humility (?) it takes to read a Corso poem and not your own. And he's cute. That too. I knew he was younger - he's a friend of J's friends who are jr/sr's in college, but, eh. Whatever. Anyway, I approached him to say I was impressed, and he said we'd already met, but he's changed a lot since the Festival. The Festival that happened six months ago. He's like, yeah, but that happens a lot at my age. And what age would that be? Ninefriggingteen. Oh, man. I felt like such a lech. And I really wanted to give him the ride I think he was fishing for, but I knew that I only had ulterior motives.

And the money to burn? Matty called me to tell me he got into Journalism school, and just as soon as he's finished with that, he's going to get his masters' and then his doctorate in English. But, Matty, why don't you just get your English Master's instead? Because liz, I won't have a job at the end of it. But Matty, you could teach. But I don't want to teach - I just want to be able to call sources for the newspaper and have them call me "doctor." Man, you gotta love the rich. They just crack me up.
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