...I Was A Teenage Fag-Hag
 

 
The story of a NYU student struggling to survive in a world where the shoes are pricey, the IDs are fake, and straight men don't seem to exist.
 
 
   
 
Thursday, June 06, 2002
 
Very fragmented and brief entry:

No cigarettes for 7 days! I'm doing quite well with the Nicorette, I think.

I've met the most charming british guy online... His name is Nick and we've been having those great IM conversations where it just flows randomly for hours until one of us has to go. Too bad he's 25 and on a different contintent. Maybe I'll have a friend ready and waiting for me when I go to London; that would be nice.

The scrawny, goateed guy from Blockbuster asked me out, saying that I have a pretty face and he wants to draw me. I let him give me his number, but I haven't called him yet and it's been long enough that I feel rather rude. Well, Nick says that I've got no need to scrape the barrel, so why should I date him if I'm not thrilled about it? I should hope I learned that lesson with Dave (who is still calling me).

I still haven't finished unpacking. This is very bad.

Sunday, June 02, 2002
 
What a depressing and lonely night... I had plans to go out with Annemieke and Jessica, but both of them cancelled. I'm darkly amused by the way Jessica called to say she couldn't make it. Why? Because her parents are out of town and she's having a party! Funny how it didn't occur to her to invite me... but whatever. If her friends are similar to her, it might be kind of scary to spend an evening cooped up with them. I ultimately decided to go out anyway, even if it meant going by myself. So I got all dolled up in a little halter top and my stiletto boots from Chinese Laundry, and bussed into the depths of Belltown. My intent was to go to the Baltic Room but I couldn't find it, and feeling like too much of an idiot to ask anyone, I headed in the general direction of home. I stopped by Watertown on the way back and almost went in, but I got cold feet at the last minute at the prospect of using my ID at a real club, and by then I wasn't feeling very enthusiastic about partying by myself.

Now I'm at home, my feet just a little bit battered from my too-tight boots, and the house is empty. After living in a dorm for nine months, I'm not used to being all alone when I really want to socialize with someone. Anyone! And this familiar isolated feeling from the past has crept up on me, reminding me of last spring when I met, fell for, and got dumped by Alan in less than a month. Confession: I looked him up in the UW directory and now I have his address, phone number and email. Is this terribly bad and self-destructive? I guess I already had this information in the past, but I got rid of it in a fit of independence. The problem is that now, having his phone number sitting in front of me, I'm tempted to call him. Bad idea, I know... but I almost feel like I can justify it. I changed my cell phone number over the summer, and my private line at home has been disconnected since I moved. So even if he wanted to call me for whatever reason, he couldn't! Right? I am such an idiot... I don't think being in Seattle is good for me; I don't quite connect with the old people and places but it still brings back all the drama and negative memories of the last few years. I want to go back to New York!

 

 
   
  This page is powered by Blogger, the easy way to update your web site.  

Home  |  Archives