22 12 2009

Ahh, only 5 hours and 23 minutes until 5 sweet, drunken, musical, cookie-and-present-filled days of vacation!!!

I’m trying not to think about it. You can see how well that’s going over. I need to focus on short-term goals. Samosas for lunch. Reading for UMiami. With all this holiday excitement bearing down on me I have less than no desire or worry to do the very necessary grad application work I still need to get done.

It’s the combination of my anticipation of an ever-nearer 5 days of intense hedonism and my knowledge that I can do amazing things under ridiculous time constraints that creates this potentially dangerous nonchalance.

OMG I just thought about paella. *drools*

Hmm. And the cute poetry girl becomes ever more brazen with her commenting and liking of my Facebook posts. God, I really love having a little flirty nothing to make a distraction out of when it has zero possibility of ever developing into something. All the fun and the guessing and the word games and none of the deep feelings of hope or dread. J was wrong when she said that the best type of relationship is one that lasts 3 months; the best type of relationship is one that exists quietly in the realm of possibility and never intrudes on the workings of my real life.

That sounds bitter, but it feels plain logical.

Anyway. Ricky is sick and has still not made his way up to Philly, which means he will not be baking cookies with us or singing karaoke tomorrow night. This makes me quite sad, and all the more hopeful that Stephen will put on his sociable hat and come hang out and wrap presents tonight and bake cookies with us tomorrow.

I mean how can I prep for the Fag Family Xmas party without the supervision of an actual fag?? (As opposed to a fag in dyke’s clothing.) Whatever, I’m a better fag than Ste anyway. I already came up with a classy punch idea involving lots of liquor and some sparkling apple cider.

Sigh. All of this rambling, non-sequiturial, topicless blather is just my way of trying to distract myself from watching the clock. So perhaps there will be more to follow. Or perhaps I’ll go make a few more brilliant and unbearably witty remarks on Facebook for the cute poetry girl to swoon over.

Or, inevitably, both.




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