Things fall apart.

Due to issues of disclosure, I am refraining from putting this on Tumblr.

My sister like to joke that my friend Z and I are a married couple, which is funny, but when push comes to shove, I see what she means. Sadly, for me, the marriage seems to be less happy than stressful. I am not a person who has very many friends, but those friends to whom I cleave I hold very close to my heart. Sadly, this means that I tend to end up in friendships wherein I put a lot more stock in the relationship than the other person, which leads to me getting hurt. A lot.

I consider Him my best friend, but I get the distinct feeling that if we stopped talking tomorrow, He probably wouldn't care. He has plenty of other friends (many of whom include people that I consider my friends), and I feel like most of the time He's just humoring me. I dunno. It's also one of those relationships in which I don't want to confront Him or say anything, because I know if I do, it'll spark some huge issue, and He'll probably never want to speak to me again, due to the aforementioned lack of investment in the relationship.

Granted, most of this stems from my general insecurity, something I've carried with me my whole life, but it just seems like I have a nasty habit of getting myself into situations that will inevitably lead to me being hurt.

I haven't seen or spoken to Him in a few days because of some things He said to me that I found to be hurtful, but I doubt He has any idea that I'm even remotely upset about it. I don't know if He's just dense, or if He is honestly incapable of seeing how other people react to His humor. As is what I assume a result of this noncommunication, He went to a party this weekend at the house of someone I've gone to school with for 3 years (an acquaintance if not a friend), and took with him a girl to whom I introduced him, who knows, but barely, the people throwing the party. Not once in the course of that night did He, she, or anyone else at the party think "Oh, let's call Evans and see what he's up to." Especially given the immediate association that most of these people have between the girl and me, who introduced her to them, this is disheartening. (If, for example, Z had been going to this party with a girl in whom he had a sexual or romantic interest, I wouldn't be offended, because that is the nature of the beast, but as the two are no more romantically involved than I am with either one of them, it stings to know that he prefers her company to mine, or indeed that they all do.)

At said party, the girl fell off of the roof, subsequently breaking her heels/feet in the process. As a result, He and she both called my sister and I the next day asking what she should do. (my sister, it should be known, was also purposely left out of the loop by the Girl, who is more her friend than mine). That's how we found out about this fun evening of partying and mayhem that we, of course, were excluded from. While I do feel genuine sympathy got the Girl, as she may require extensive medical treatment, I can't help but be incensed at the whole situation, which, I imagine, makes me seem petty.

The worst part, to me, is that his not calling me that night displays that he is cognizant of the fact that I am upset with him, but not only is he unwilling to acknowledge it or apologize, he went ahead and made things even worse.

Fuck my life.

X

back to basics, y'all

So, I'm back at USC, and it's amazing. I'll admit, I've slept through exactly three classes, which, while more than I hoped, is acceptable. I can deal with that. Three of my four professors are awesome. The one I don't like is constantly ranting about how privileged and jaded we all are at USC, and how we are completely oblivious to the world. I don't think he can tell that we like it that way. He seems a bit oblivious.

Also, for reasons beyond my understanding, I am seeing even less of my USC friends now that I'm back than I did when I was away, which makes no sense to me. I guess being around all the time makes people realize how annoying I am. Who knows. I almost got the chance to get my mack on, but I chose at that inopportune moment to unload the contents of my stomach all over the ground at my feet. Not so good.

Also, apparently, the girl that I like is using me as a tool to make the guy that she likes jealous. I don't know how I feel about that, but I know I don't like it. If I was getting some, I wouldn't mind being the other guy, or a tool. but I'm not

X.

What it do, dear friend.

I know no one reads this, so I'm just going to go on and talk like I talk to myself. And yet, here I am, talking like a crazy person. Thus is my life.

The last week has been, in a word, highly confusing. (I know that's two words, but I don't count adjectives. So there.) I was granted the unparalleled chance, thanks to early finals, to spend time with a lovely young woman. It's been almost three years since I got out of a relatively long-term relationship (nine months), and since then, I have done absolutely nothing in the dating/romance department. I don't know whether it's been a desire to close myself off, or if I've just been lazy, but it's been a while. To be fair, I haven't really met anyone that I've thought about pursuing. That is not to say that I have super-high standards, I know I'm not that attractive. I've just not connected to anyone on that level.

Over the last few weeks, I've gotten to hang out with Her pretty regularly, and it was pretty awesome. For the first time, I met someone with whom I thought I could forge that connection that I've missed, something beyond the "Friend Zone." The Friend Zone is my enemy. Because I don't generally tend to go after women as strongly or as fiercely as I suppose many others do, if I am interested in someone, it's basically only me that knows it, because I don't do anything about it. Part of that is my overwhelmingly gentlemanly nature, which, contrary to popular belief, is not a chick magnet. I don't know why I can be the most acerbic, sharp-tongued asshole when I don't need to, but when women are concerned, I turn into Cousin Ashley, and am all old-time Southern Gent.

As I lamented my concern over whether or not I might get stuck in the Friend Zone, she said to me: It doesn't matter how fast you move, what matters is that it's clear where you're headed. Taking that advice to heart, I made a point to interact with Her not as I interact with female friends, but something apart, hoping for something more. I do move slowly. I don't kiss on the first date, and I probably wouldn't on the second. I'm certainly out of practice, but I'm also afflicted with a crippling fear of being deemed too forward, so I tend not to act on any feelings until I'm reasonably sure the other party feels the same way. I thought She did. I was working my way up to it, had asked Her to dinner, was going to go to the Zoo, and had it all planned out. Of course, because this is MY life, nothing went as planned.

Wednesday I went downtown to help Her move out of her apartment. I figured "Hey, She wants to spend time with me, by ourselves, when I'm not a drunk idiot, and that's a good sign." I should've kissed her at some point during the day, in retrospect. Being an asshole, I of course didn't. We sang, we packed, we talked. I basically carried the entire contents of Her apartment out an annoying self-locking door into a giant wooden box on the street. I don't begrudge Her that, because if I hadn't wanted to do it, I could've made an excuse. I didn't, and unknowingly sealed my fate, or so it would appear. That day we talked about our plans for the rest of the week, which consisted of a trip to the Zoo on Thursday, followed by dinner. (I suggested somewhere in the valley, a favorite of mine, but we left it up in the air).

As the evening went on, however, things began to change. Apparently She had promised a mutual friend that She'd hang out with her before she left, and so asked if she could come with us to the zoo. Being an optimist, I immediately thought "Oh, She likes me, and is nervous about spending the day with me by Herself. Yes!," but was very clearly, in retrospect, mistaken. We left it at that while I drove Her to Her new digs, wherein, apparently, She and Her group had a concert, which I was honored to be able to attend. After the concert, She realized that we couldn't do the zoo on Thursday, as she had academic obligations, and I wasn't going to hold that against her, so we rescheduled the zoo for Friday, tentatively.

Much later, we were talking to a pair of her friends, and conversation turned to Her apparent romantic interest in a currently absent member of Her group, which shocked me only inasmuch as I had assumed Her to be at least passively interested in me, but by so openly discussing the other man with her friend, she disabused me of that illusion rather quickly. Another member of the group joined her on her bed somewhat later, suggesting that they go to a party so that they could "find some men," and She, sitting inches from me, brightly agreed, but we didn't end up going to the party, which I suppose was in my favor. Clearly, I was misreading signs, here.

I went home that night, confused and concerned, but still willing to fight the good fight.

The next evening, after She finished Her tests, I went back to the house, to hang out, but the dinner plans I thought we had were to be postponed, again. We, instead, went to get yogurt, and anyone who knows me knows that I'm an Iced Cream man, and don't understand why every college student has a hard-on for yogurt, but I went anyway, to be a sport, and, to be fair, enjoyed it. We drove back to Her place, She completely sated, me hungry as all get out, but I wasn't about to complain. As it turns out, She had a lot to do for some of Her friends' graduation presents, so I just sort of toodled around in the background, not going much.

Luckily, some of Her housemates were smoking a bowl, and were kind enough to include me, at which point we listened to techno and I did yoga stretches (search me as to why). I had, probably, hoped to loosen up to ask them their advice, but the Green has a certain effect on the memory, and I never got around to it. Woe is me. That night She was bushed, and I was high, so I went home to sleep it off, but we still hadn't finalized any plans, so I knew at that point that the zoo was a pipe dream.

Friday, I slept until about 3 in the afternoon, precluding any possible zoo trip, and rather expected to wake up to at least one missed call or text message, but, as to be expected, there was nothing, and I got a call late in the afternoon, but didn't answer it, as I was in a funk. No voicemail. There was a party that night, which I attended with my sister and some friends, but it doesn't merit mention in this post other that in passing. (yes, it was that bad) Apparently, I texted Her that night, which I don't remember, but She responded the next evening with some excuse, which I believe, but didn't make me feel any better. Since Friday, our conversation has gone from almost constant to virtually nonexistent. So crumbles the cookie.

After talking to my best friend about the happenings, it was brought to my attention that our own mutual friend has known Her for a good deal longer than me, and that in his opinion, she is, by nature, a very flirtatious person, and that I more than likely was reading far too much into the relationship. Disappointed, I went home dejected, to say the very least. I knew at that point, that one of two things had happened: 1. I so firmly entrenched myself into the Friend Zone that she felt comfortable asking me to help her move or 2. She knew that I liked her, and chose to use that to Her advantage, manipulating me in the process. I like to hope that She wasn't just using my goodwill to do a dirty job, but I apparently don't know Her as well as I had thought or hoped.

Today, I spent 8 hours locked in a tiny, windowless room filled with boxes and files, and had nothing to entertain myself but my phone, on which I proceeded to watch her youtube videos, and listen to The Rescues on repeat. The Rescues speak to my soul, and I managed, just barely, not to break into tears for various reasons. I'm not a crier, or a Bitch, but I'll admit that I am, if not hurt, then at least confused. I took a chance, and made myself vulnerable, hoping for the best, but I just ended up hurting myself. Again.

Thanks for listening, computer.

X

This Just In

Why am I so good at making douchebag friends? 

World Traveller

As it turns out, my dad is going to Indonesia next week, for a week. Of course, he hired a housesitter, so I can't have any parties there, but hey, what can you do, eh? He's going with his Medical Group, because apparently, the Indonesian government is tired of their nationals coming to America for surgery and such, as it loses them money. So, the Indonesian government is having the partners fly to Jakarta for a week to meet with prospective and past patients, maybe do a little treatment while they're there, and help them start to set up a new hospital. The Yudhoyono government, apparently, wants to build a state-of-the-art hospital in Jakarta, to keep their people from leaving the country to seek medical care, and the upside of this is that they want each of the partners of the group to come to Indonesia a few times a year for a week or two and treat patients. While normally, one might think it odd to travel 22 hours to treat patients when there are plenty here in the States, you must remember that these Indonesians are richer than God, and pay in cash. CASH. This being the operative term in the equation. 

Of course, my father being the LOVER of world culture that he is, has been on me for the last week about information on Indonesia. This is his first excursion to a Muslim country, and my father is no fan of the Muslims, so it should be an interesting experience for him. Granted, the elite with whom he will be interacting are hardly extremists, there will be a certain culture shock, to be sure. He needs to keep his wife in check, that's for sure. Sadly, he won't be able to see Borobudur or Prambanan, or any of the other archaeological wonders of Java, but he will get to see Jakarta, which should be eye-opening, to say the least. Keep in mind that this is only a preliminary expedition, however, which will hopefully open the door to much bigger and better things. He may even get to take his children with him on one of the trips.

Regardless of travel opportunities, the greatest benefit of this deal coming through is the money. If this thing happens, Dad will be going to Indonesia two to four times a year, for a week or so, and be making 500k in CASH for each visit. All expenses paid. FIVE HUNDRED THOUSAND DOLLARS. That, in addition to the work he does here, will hopefully get him off my ass about getting a job, and maybe raise my allowance. That would be wonderful. Just peachy.

Ugh. Tired. 

More later,

X.

My Kryptonite

I just realized why I so rarely get along with my Dad and my sister! A revelation worthy of St. John, I would say. After a night out for my Dad's birthday weekend, it hit me: My Dad is the grownup version of every Fratty Douchebag I know in college. He's a perpetual teenager, with all of the demanding, petulant behavior that entails. Even though he's a parent of three (so far) he's never really grown up (which might explain his wife), but somehow still manages to be a fogey. Not a fogey in the way I'm a fogey, which I think is kind of endearing and refreshing, but in that , evil, selfish, crotchety way. He's only 47, mind you. He's that enduring popular guy. He was a fratty douche in college, and that must have been where it all started. He's got this complex, that no matter what is going on, his way is the way it should be, and if you disagree or dissent, he'll either drown you out or gang up with someone else to shut you up. That's where my sister comes in. She's great. I love her to death, but GOD is she a Royal Bitch. When she and Dad get going, it's a trainwreck from Hell. As usual, the thing that tipped it off on Saturday was music. Dad got shitfaced, along with his [expletive deleted] wife, and I was made to drive home, being the only non-lush in the family. I changed up the radio, because I didn't like what was on, and it ended up on some XM station, which happened to be playing a Techno/Trance remix of an Ensemble Hüseyin Türkmenler song. I happen to like said song, remix or no. I was enjoying myself. Dad and my Sister then proceed to attack the music. 

"What is this shit?"

"It's my BIRTHDAY! We listen to what I want!"

"Seriously! This sucks. Change it!"

When I kindly responded that I was driving, and the song was almost over, and it wouldn't kill them to finish it, they both got irate, and my sister attacked the dials.* I kindly tell them all where they can shove their closedmindedness, but leave it at that. I didn't want to start a fight.

They also get like that with food. I want to make rabbit, and I need Dad's kitchen to do it, but they, as a family, won't let me, because it's "gross" and they don't want it in their house. Bunch of fucking Douches.

So yeah. That was my weekend. Woohoo.

When MY birthday weekend rolls along, I'm making it a rule that NO ONE gets to drink. Stepmother can't hold her liquor, and anytime she's in her cups, she picks a fight with my dad, who, of course, in his childish idiocy, eggs her on. That's love, for ya.

Lights Out,

X.

* This behavior has, in the past, gotten her socked in her fucking face.

So. I didn't go to class today. I don't really know why, I just didn't feel like it. Normally, that would upset me, but I've been good about attendance so far, and I didn't have any assignments due or quizzes today, so it's not the end of the world. I got to catch up on some revision, which was good. This weekend was actually super fun, much to my surprise. Friday night, my friend Max had a party at his place downtown, and I got to meet some new people, have some fun, drink some water. Then Savannah came (!!!) and after that, a bunch of us went to The Pantry, which is an amazing restaurant, and I missed it terribly. Those ham steaks are off the chain. The on Saturday, MMT and Maureen had their housewarming, and even though I didn't know most of the people there, I enjoyed myself immensely. I almost fought a bitch, but I kept my composure. On an upside, I wasn't pressured into drinking vast quantities, which is nice. A good change. 

More Later,

X.