Saturday, April 20, 2002

He's home. I picked him up at the airport around noon. He'd only had 4 hours sleep, he's brown and he brought me a lovely fresh flower lei. He also brought back with him some of the pain of us not being a couple anymore. At times I just want to take his chin in my hands, turn his head towards mine and give him a deep, soulful, lingering kiss. I want to stir up the same desire in him that lives in my heart and mind and body and make him respond to me. I want to touch and clutch and grab and moan... and I know I cannot.

I even had a dream last night where I attempted to do that... and in it he turned me down. That was only a dream, but I fear that the reality would be similar. Only because he appears to be stronger than I am at resisting the desires that we both have.

Oh my heart, oh my soul.

Why must he doubt? Why must I make myself feel unloveable because of it? Meh.

The description of the night and dress codes that piss me off:

We went to go for sushi and ended up running into Maho from work. We joined her and some others at the Yaletown Brewery (where there was a veritable cougar-fest going on) and we had some fun playing with the new service laptop and "testing the wireless connection" by surfing for movie times. We had fun there and then tried to hit Ginger 62 on Granville, but unfortunately weren't up to the "dress code". Dress codes piss me off. I don't think I want to be a part of a world with dress codes... though I geuss there can be benefits such as no naked greasy old men running around the office. The thing that pisses me off is that just because you wore sandals, you are automatically "rejected" as "not good enough". Maybe I'm reading too much into it... but I don't think so. It's a power thing. Lording something over someone else because they're different. Possibly I don't much like dress codes because I don't often dress to what one would require. My personal dress code is one of function over fashion. Comfort over style. I don't plan to change it for anyone.

Clubbing really isn't my thing, anyway. I don't often drink, I don't smoke and I enjoy actually being able to carry on a conversation that isn't composed of yelling. Once in a while going to a place with fun house music or some sweet drum'n'bass can lift my spirits and allow me to really let loose. That's fun. I don't often really need to let *that* loose, though. I'm a fairly relaxed and balanced kind of girl.. despite what my blog archives may show! Consider that I do not need alcohol to let loose and say or do just about anything. I don't require drugs to remove my inhibitions. The inhibitions I have are pretty much at the level of people who have had 2 or 3 stiff drinks for the most part, yet I retain the judgement that allows me to not go overboard and the ability to legally operate a motor vehicle. ;-)

The many bonuses to this approach.

1. It's really cheap to have fun.
2. No hangover.
3. I stay well hydrated (drink lots of water)
4. I remember the entire night.
5. Most people assume I'm drunk when I say something outrageous so I get away with it anyway.
6. No empty calories from alcohol.
and many, many more!

I don't undestand some people's NEED to go out with the express purpose of "getting shitfaced" every Friday and Saturday night. It's not that I disapprove of alcohol, it's that I just don't see the real need for it. If I can be uninhibited without it, anyone can. They just have to LET themselves. I don't pretend to understand the reasons that people love to drink so much. I don't even vaguely understand the "badge of honour" that there seems to be in telling a story about how totally shitfaced you got and then puked all over your neighbours dog. I mean.. how wonderful?! Why? Can anyone tell me what the fascination with the overconsumption of alcohol is? Why is it so "cool". I just don't see it.

I'm tired and the rants just keep coming. Probably in no semblance of order.

Sleep now.

No comments: