nuke

for presidents’ day i rediscovered one of my all-time favorite cds: the broken arrow soundtrack. how many times did i make out to this music in high school? one million. it’s really tough weapon/helicopter music and not exactly typical for making out. i mean, it’s no n’sync. but it’s not like i had a lot of cds back in 1999, okay? and i don’t think nick hopson was there for the music anyway.

speaking of making out with people and how i used to do it a lot in high school and basically never get to do it at all now because i seem to have developed a severe case of late onset social dysfunction disorder, i walked home from the castro muni station tonight with the cutest boy in my fiction class. which made me remember why i spend most of my evenings NOT walking home with the cutest boy in my fiction class.

okay so he is a really nice boy, right? sure he is kind of a hipster-don’t-call-me-a-hipster but what boy in san francisco isn’t? he’s friendly at least and since i haven’t read his stories yet, i can’t hate him on the basis of sucky stories. plus one of the first things he said while we were walking home was, “i think the problem with our workshop is that everyone is way too nice.” PERFECT!! TRUE!! everyone is too nice ALL THE TIME and because of that people think awful stories are good and so i have to read 2 terrible stories every f-ing week. of course, my joy at his statement may have freaked him out a little bit.

and i probably should have contained myself because at this point we still had 8 more blocks for me to say/do these incredibly dorky things, which of course i did without hesitation: “i’ve never really liked smoking pot,” while hitting my fist on the side of a building (?) “i’m just so sick of being sick,” “i hate san francisco,” and of course the stand-by crazy-laugh at EVERY thing he said.

these might not sound that bad to you but you should know that NOBODY in san francisco bonds over not liking san francisco. in fact, saying you aren’t that in to san francisco is sort of the equivalent to saying in other places, “i’m a pedophile.” people first get scared and then they get angry and then they stop talking to you and walk with their kids to the other side of the street. it’s not nice.

the laugh and weird non sequitur thing are standard examples of how i can turn even the greatest conversation beginning of all time, mutual dislike of something, into an awkward pit of pity and discomfort.

and the pot thing is just not something you share with a potentially cool person until you have known them for at least 5 years.

anyway, that’s how it goes. i imagine someday earth will spin backwards and suddenly we will be in bizarro movie land where boys are charmed by eccentric behavior and not terrified by it. or maybe i will relearn the social skills that made me so popular with the boys in high school. though i still have my own room and a reasonable curfew so.

well anyway, thank god for the president right? happy presidents’ day! though you know, to me every day is presidents’ day.

[i know. that isn’t an ending. it’s torturing me too but i am really hungry and sometimes the bravest thing to do is surrender. so i am surrendering to this ending-less post. and then i am eating some dinner.]

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