One of the first activities since coming to college: Extreme Bingo.

... Words cannot describe, so here are a few choice pics of the night.












Oooh lordy that was fun.

He wanted an answer, and I--being the coward that I am--logged off. How do you tell someone that you won't see in a few weeks that you don't want to be with them anymore? He wanted to interview me concerning the protest rally at school so many months ago, but I know it's just an excuse for me to go over to his place.

Right now, I am very undeserving of what he wants to give. Since when was I able to fuck someone when I can't stand to look at myself in the mirror everyday.

I guess, if I didn't have as many objections and needs as I do now, and if I were more naive, I would try to build something with Halley... I never liked him emotionally. Besides, he really is a thorough slut. Almost more so than that bastard.

... Is it a curse or a blessing that I find all the reasons to not like a guy after I declare my feelings and get smacked with ye olde rejection hammer?

Dammit, I should've blocked him a while ago.

Just to let you know, your ability to lie is equal to your ability to hit on random strangers with enthusiasm. That is to say: none at all. I know I've been shite about keeping my promise, but it's hard to be a proper comfort with this distance between us and neither of us really listening to eachother's words and advice.

And as for YOU, you unresponsive git: you lie so often I doubt you realize you do it all the time anymore. Greed and vanity have clouded your eyes and crusted your ears. But then again, I wonder if you ever had the capacity to listen to anyone but yourself.

And YOU... are cuddly.

My dad hugged me out of the blue last night. That was highly unexpected, especially in this family where any complement outside of schoolwork-related topics is to be regarded with high suspicion.

(Case in point: mom buttering me up about this portrait I did of a friend then asking/telling me to paint one of my cousin from her med school grad photo.)

Grandma's staying in California until Friday, so the sudden cleaning spree of yesterday was a bit of a waste. Oh well, at least I can burn my incense until the end of the week.

Somehow I became the subject of a conversation Mike had with his mom while at Olive Garden. When she asked what I was going to do, he said that I wanted to dominate the world. Which I do, but... Not "LIKE HITLER?!" as Mrs. P. so loudly proclaimed to the whole of the restaurant.

Speaking of mothers, I was given the severe silent treatment from mine last night. Possibly a reaction from my own silent treatment to the rest of the family, but that came from a worthy headache and a technologically impaired sibling.

"You're sis can be so dumb. I love her, but damn."

She's forgetful too. Come to think of it, either I enjoy making friends with people who have the short term memory of a twit (hurray for pregger goldfish), or I'm cursed with a REALLY good memory. It's already been decided that all my guy friends tend to be assholes, all my female friends enjoy mucho boy on boy action, and everyone tends to have heart or lung problems.

New painting no.1 has turned to shite, but I'll keep on working on it. Right now I'm working on a piece loosely based on the second half of the Orphen myth (after he loses his wife for the second time), and I can't decide if I want the background wall to be one from a war-torn Congo nation or the Wailing Wall in Jerusalem. Decisions, always decisions. Either way, it's allegory and allusion mixed with international political social commentary. I may have to change the Orpheus figure depending on which issue I want to directly focus on, but I'll get to that hurdle after I take this detour and eat lunch.

Even though it would really be breakfast... which was suppose to be dinner from last night, but I was too preoccupied painting and then doing ballet workouts. Need to do my tai chi routines again; I think those would be more collegemates friendly. It'll be... interesting... sharing an apartment with three straight guys.

No, I will not jouz their sleeves, or however you spell that one.