I once wrote this when I was stoned, lying on my couch, watching passing headlights make geometric patterns on my ceiling by in the dark:
I like to pet her kitten
She scratches in return

I once wrote this when I was stoned, lying on my couch, watching passing headlights make geometric patterns on my ceiling by in the dark:
I like to pet her kitten
She scratches in return
I went to dinner with Sonace tonight at the Black Tomato. I ordered what I normally get there, and recommended a seafood dish to Sonace, since he’s a big seafood eater. I had a very interesting red wine with my red meat, but unfortunately I forgot the name of it. There was a slightly sweet start with an unusual fruit flavour, something I didn’t recognize. The wine was bursting with taste and had an amazing, mellow finish. I wanted to see him before I headed off to Hong Kong, to see what he’s been up to. He lost a lot of weight when he stopped playing football, and was sporting a slick pair of glasses. Now he looks like a smart guy, going for his law degree.
I just tried to take Patches to the vet hospital, but it turns out that the appointment was scheduled for tomorrow instead. I’m not sure if the miscommunication is my fault or the interns’ fault; I doubt it was me, but it could be either. Now my planning has been fucked, and I just wasted $40 in taxi money after dealing with annoying interns (the hospital has amazing doctors, but complete bitches for interns). I’ve been wanting to get this appointment over with for so long. Patches might be sick and I’m leaving to go home soon, and I need to make sure he’s okay before I leave. Trolley has the car next week so he’ll help me take Patches then. I was going to drown my frustration in breakfast sausages, but I ran out of them yesterday.
I’ve realized that I have a hard time looking in the eyes of people I can’t stand.
It’s as if I don’t want to be dishonest to them. That no matter how much I hate them, I still feel like they deserve to know the truth. At least I can be…honourable about this, independent of how I feel about the person.
I hold honesty at a very basic level of human integrity. I can’t believe how many people I know who pretend to be friends with people they can’t stand. It all seems so phony, unless they’re forced to be friendly due to specific circumstances (such as being married into a new family, moving in with unknown roommates, etc.). Sometimes the false friendliness gives people the wrong idea, and they start to hang around even more, and everything just gets worse.
I’m glad that I find it hard to lie to someone, although I’m also a little scared by the fact that it’s so hard for me to hide something such as this. I’ve always been a terrible interpreter of body language, and in turn have never had much luck with hiding/manipulating my own. Of course I can hide it when I really want to, but it’s a lot harder when I don’t give a shit about the person. Most people, I don’t care enough about to actually hide anything.
And it shows.
Aaron and I tried a “non drinking” test run at the Honest Lawyer yesterday. I’ve never really needed alcohol to have a good time around people like Aaron and Trolley. For some reason I already get pretty hyper and already act crazy around them, like I’m an energy sink. I’ve always viewed alcohol as another tax that I was shelling out for, like cigarettes or lottery tickets for some.
It was good to be more conscious about everything going on and not have to feel like shit the next day. Aaron wants to try giving it up altogether or drinking every other time we go out, but I’m pretty fine with cold turkey. I doubt I can completely give it up, especially since red wine goes with my beef spaghetti so well and the fact that so much alcohol tastes so good by itself, but I’ve never really felt the need to swig the liquid courage. The craving for an occasional binge will always be there, of course, but those are few and far between.