sat morning = friday night?

yes, that 2:30 at the bottom is chicago time, not like german time or somehing. it always seems like a trap of some sort, like i'm trying to lure or trap g into staying later. she came over here, bringing coke to mix with my famous vanilla vodka. all went as planned, she gelled my hair, we watched my newest almodovar, we got a bit tipsy, we sat around talking afterwards. she leaves for the airport with joe in 3 hrs, going home to texas for a friend's wedding. all the talking felt good on one hand, cause i felt like i was saying things i needed to say, talking about the way beauty looked in the sorority house; my odd relationship with ch and my sexuality, and the way temp joe fits into that. but i felt like i didn't hear what i needed to from her. she listened to my stories without really responding- or maybe i just had different expectiations for responses- really, i just didn't ask enough questions. i don't know if it's a friday night thing or a drinking thing, but i was crushing again. and there's that knife twisting cell phone of hers. she did make efforts both times he called to try and get him off- "ill tell you when i get home"s. i hate that he owns so much of her life, and he has to infringe on my miniscule bits of time with her. touching her hair is playing on my mix, and it seems so apropriate while talking about him. grr. her half of the conversation is like, "he got it? oh, fuck the fulbright, i get it. tell him he can come to costa rica with us. really, tell him. no, i'm still at caitlins. yeah, i'll call you then." i ask about it, and she just tells me about his friend who was basing all his post graduation plans on getting the fullbright. this is the kind of person her boyfriend is. who assumes they are going to get a fulbright scholarship? but she doesn't tell me anything about her and joe going to costa rica. i don't press it. i don't wanna know. i have to pee so badly, but i hold it, knowing when i stand up to go to the bathroom she's going to say she has to go. i'm glad that i can re-engage her in conversation before she looks too closely at her watch. eventually she has to go for real, and i can't be abandoned here. she says she's calling him to meet her half way and i say i'll walk her home. so i do, and a block away from my house he calls again, and i'm wondering how long i let them talk before i turn around and walk home and let her continue her conversation with the one she'll be meeting soon enough. what'd you watch? he asks. live flesh she says. what he screaches? we'll talk about it when i get there she says. she can flip back to me, but the grating it does to my teeth i can't recover from as quickly. it's all her life. so little of it is mine. i've been pushing all night, though. i wonder when i'll go too far. we talked about sexuality, breasts. she told the story of him going over to his friends house to play video games and drink, and her play role of being a hanging on girlfriend, and ends it with telling him (ironically, of course) "i know where this is going, you're going to leave me for another boy- you're leaving me for jordan!" and i tell her, if it ever happens, you know where to come. it better be my arms you're running to, cause you're gonna fall in love with me as soon as he falls in love with jordan. we laughed, but i know i wasn't. i wanna see how close i can get without giving in. i'm gonna rub up aganst it till i break the skin. fuck. ani got to sleep with her straight friend. i also don't wanna do homework. i know if i go to bed, when i wake up it will be saturday and i'll have to do what i've been putting off all week. i was planning on just walking and walking after dropping off g, but my thoughts were tumbling so much, i thought blogging might be better, healthier, more productive. and after midnight i'm always worried about pearl. not that i've ever been hassled by a sober person in chicago. coming home was really nice. i was so glad i picked up in my free time today. i made my bed (into a couch) before g came over, and it's in it's welcoming misquito netting cave, and my christmas lights are glowing, and i left itunes on so natalie merchant's kind and generous was playing as i came in. and i got a little rush when i thought, "i LIVE here. i get to go to bed here tonight, and every night." and i suppose that's the point. who CARES about a fucking girl (even one who has selfproclaimed perfectly symetrical breasts) when one has an awesome flat?