So today. Really. Was. Not. Exciting. And the only reason that I have anything to report about today is that I went out for drinks with Meg. This was after sleeping in, and then studying for the GRE most of the afternoon. I called Ivan to see if he wanted to hang out, but he was buying boots and said he'd call me back. Then there was a furious SMS-ing session with Meg, who needed advice about whether or not she should go to drinks with Evgenii after her crush who was going to go with them cancelled. This is also slightly problematic, because it is suspected that Evgenii may have a small crush on Meg. Oh, the drama of the love triangle!
Anyway, it was decided that since it didn't seem like Ivan was going to be calling me anytime soon, we should just plan on having beers at 8, so that Meg would have a good excuse for having a drink with Evgenii and then splitting. Meg was appallingly late and I waited at the metro station for forty-five minutes. But it was okay, because I had a book, and there were lots of people to look at, so I wasn't bored.
She took me to a couple places on the island, which was good, because I hadn't done any exploring on my own and had no idea where the fuck the bars were. We started out in a café until they closed, and then moved to a much pricier German place two doors down. It was really nice. I forget how nice it is to talk to somebody who knows who your friends are, and who already knows you well. It was also really nice to talk to somebody about the weird feelings of growing up, and maybe kinda feeling like you've maybe met somebody that you might want to spend a significant bit of time with. And how to tell that person that they mean a lot to you without sounding like a douchebag.
I'm going to get a little personal here, so if you're not into crap about my not-love life, skip down to the next paragraph. I'm not sure that talking about this is really okay, mostly because most of you can probably guess who I'm talking about, but I know he doesn't read this, so whatever. Anyway. There's somebody back home that I really miss a lot. And this isn't really like a "Oh, yeah, I guess I miss him" if I happen to be thinking about it, but more like an all-the-time "Oh my God, how am I going to make it through the next seven months with only phone calls?" type of thing that hasn't gotten much better since I arrived. Of course this is all made way worse by the fact that I'm sure he doesn't miss me anywhere near as much as I miss him. But the more I think about it, the more I realize that I don't want to do another year far away from this guy. That I miss him too much. And it doesn't matter that we're not dating or together in any sense of the word (that that we have been ever), but I just really want to be his friend and be near him. Which sounds like the dumbest and sappiest thing in the world and makes me want to barf, but that's how it is. Although, the good thing about me being away is that we actually talk to each other when I call. Which is not something that we've ever really done that much of before, except when we're drunk. And it's been really pretty good. But I'm starting to look at grad schools and wonder how on earth I'm going to do another couple years away, especially if he's staying in Portland. Because just telling him how I feel is weird and freaky, right? But also planning my life around him is weird and freaky, right? I totally have no idea what to do. Mostly I'm afraid of having this conversation because this is also someone who's hurt me on a couple of separate occasions with this kind of stuff, and I'm not sure that I'd want to hear his response. Because part of me knows that he's got too much inertia built up to change anything about his life, and I think that hearing that might also just break my heart. I don't know. I just want so badly to be his friend and be where he is and I'm just not sure how to do it. I wish life was easier and that I could just man-up and tell him and not worry about what he's going to say. Which would probably be nothing anyway.
So yeah, anyway... Growing up sucks. Enough of that. By the time we emerged from the German bar after accosting a group of English speakers at another table and demanding to know what program they belonged to, we headed out for the metro. Or rather, I headed, and Meg staggered. We had three beers together, but she had two before she met me. And alas, by the time we made it to the metro, it was shut tight and dark for the night. However, we were on the island, so we headed in the direction of my house, where it was pretty clear that Meg was going to have to spend the night, as she was in no condition to be negotiating the dangers of a taxi on her own. It was a night full of minor wrong turns, me having to pee down a sidestreet (fervently hoping that nobody was out walking around or looking out their window), and Meg's umbrella getting run over by a car after she swung it around and it flew off the wrist loop. We eventually found my street and we came in as quietly as two drunk Americans can, had some tea and I put Meg on the couch in my room.
I had bad dreams all night. Something about "mad fish disease." Gross.
Anyway, it was decided that since it didn't seem like Ivan was going to be calling me anytime soon, we should just plan on having beers at 8, so that Meg would have a good excuse for having a drink with Evgenii and then splitting. Meg was appallingly late and I waited at the metro station for forty-five minutes. But it was okay, because I had a book, and there were lots of people to look at, so I wasn't bored.
She took me to a couple places on the island, which was good, because I hadn't done any exploring on my own and had no idea where the fuck the bars were. We started out in a café until they closed, and then moved to a much pricier German place two doors down. It was really nice. I forget how nice it is to talk to somebody who knows who your friends are, and who already knows you well. It was also really nice to talk to somebody about the weird feelings of growing up, and maybe kinda feeling like you've maybe met somebody that you might want to spend a significant bit of time with. And how to tell that person that they mean a lot to you without sounding like a douchebag.
I'm going to get a little personal here, so if you're not into crap about my not-love life, skip down to the next paragraph. I'm not sure that talking about this is really okay, mostly because most of you can probably guess who I'm talking about, but I know he doesn't read this, so whatever. Anyway. There's somebody back home that I really miss a lot. And this isn't really like a "Oh, yeah, I guess I miss him" if I happen to be thinking about it, but more like an all-the-time "Oh my God, how am I going to make it through the next seven months with only phone calls?" type of thing that hasn't gotten much better since I arrived. Of course this is all made way worse by the fact that I'm sure he doesn't miss me anywhere near as much as I miss him. But the more I think about it, the more I realize that I don't want to do another year far away from this guy. That I miss him too much. And it doesn't matter that we're not dating or together in any sense of the word (that that we have been ever), but I just really want to be his friend and be near him. Which sounds like the dumbest and sappiest thing in the world and makes me want to barf, but that's how it is. Although, the good thing about me being away is that we actually talk to each other when I call. Which is not something that we've ever really done that much of before, except when we're drunk. And it's been really pretty good. But I'm starting to look at grad schools and wonder how on earth I'm going to do another couple years away, especially if he's staying in Portland. Because just telling him how I feel is weird and freaky, right? But also planning my life around him is weird and freaky, right? I totally have no idea what to do. Mostly I'm afraid of having this conversation because this is also someone who's hurt me on a couple of separate occasions with this kind of stuff, and I'm not sure that I'd want to hear his response. Because part of me knows that he's got too much inertia built up to change anything about his life, and I think that hearing that might also just break my heart. I don't know. I just want so badly to be his friend and be where he is and I'm just not sure how to do it. I wish life was easier and that I could just man-up and tell him and not worry about what he's going to say. Which would probably be nothing anyway.
So yeah, anyway... Growing up sucks. Enough of that. By the time we emerged from the German bar after accosting a group of English speakers at another table and demanding to know what program they belonged to, we headed out for the metro. Or rather, I headed, and Meg staggered. We had three beers together, but she had two before she met me. And alas, by the time we made it to the metro, it was shut tight and dark for the night. However, we were on the island, so we headed in the direction of my house, where it was pretty clear that Meg was going to have to spend the night, as she was in no condition to be negotiating the dangers of a taxi on her own. It was a night full of minor wrong turns, me having to pee down a sidestreet (fervently hoping that nobody was out walking around or looking out their window), and Meg's umbrella getting run over by a car after she swung it around and it flew off the wrist loop. We eventually found my street and we came in as quietly as two drunk Americans can, had some tea and I put Meg on the couch in my room.
I had bad dreams all night. Something about "mad fish disease." Gross.
posted by hillary at 6:43 AM
1 Comments:
The other night I had a nightmare about bowling, fuzzy tiger slippers, luxury cars and a rotating bar. I know that list looks like an awesome dream but it was really very scary. Really.
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