Season's over...finally. We took first in league. League Champs. Yeah. Pretty smooth. Yesterday was so long and boring...I swear to god, if I have to sit another hour in that goddamn gymnasium, I'm blowing my right leg off with an uzi. (KIDDING...don't hold me to it...) Poor Oasis. He worked so fucking hard...he took third, which is nothing to be ashamed of at all, and because of his fucking dad, he never feels like what he does is good enough. He works three times harder than anyone else on the team, and his dad gives him shit everytime he doesn't come out on THE top. Bitch nuts. I swear I would run away from home if I were him.
Yesterday was also tolo...wow. What a night. Moonhuck and I left the tourney at four to go and get ready...well, we were going to leave at five, but Blueorchid was sucking it up so bad we decided that it couldn't hurt to leave a little early. So I strapped on my trusty snakeskin-print-clear-sequined backless strappy number and went out to conquer the world. Actually, I went back to Kennedy for the finals, where I met up with Emre and Nova. After a ridiculously long fucking round (due to abnormally incapacitated referees, no doubt) we finally split around ten o' clock, and headed out for the dance. Emre got me like, a dozen pink roses, which he left on the seat for me. Aw...even though I hate pink and gestures of affection embarass me, I was really touched. And the pink really isn't that noxious. I'm going to hang um upside down and dry them.
We got to the dance...Emre's not much of a dancer (in that he doesn't like to dance, I think) so I had to pretty much get down with Nova. It's all good, I like a little swinging every now and then (in the safest way possible, no less) and I'm sure the 50+ people who were watching didn't mind very much either. I should have rocked the huge-ass hoops, but I decided against it. Tsk. Bleeding shame. Those are the shit. I'll wear um on Monday. Maria Conchita was there...she pretty much hung around her Swedish exchange friend and date...she kept getting unnecessarily close to me and Emre...it was pissing me off. I wrenched Emre away a couple times (much to his surprise and apparent confusion) because the thought of our accidentally touching was too much for me to bear. Shudder. Ick patooey.
Post-dance, I was going to go and spend the night at Nova's, but she was "going over to Mr. Retard's" so Emre and I were left on our own. Not complaining, it's just like, wow, BAM! Alone time and what not. We played video games. He kicked my ass. I came in 2nd once, but the bulk of the time, I remained somewhere near the pathetic end. Busily crashing into the walls, running over monuments on the Egyptian landscape, bulldozing precious near-extinct trees in the African Savannah. Then we both kind of collapsed out of mutual exhaustion, on his bed, mind you. Tickling wars ensued. Does everyone else always end up getting tickled? Is it just me?
Then another BOOM. We kissed. It wasn't the tongue-mashing snog-fest you're no doubt envisioning. It was surprisingly sweet. I think we were both too tired to rev the engines. But I stayed at his house until literally four in the am. No, we didn't get down. Nothing happened. I don't even know if you could consider it PG-13 yet. Well, probably. Critics are getting picky these days. (I'm busy telling Caoimhin about the dance via IM. Interesting. This must be a Freudian notion in the working.) He seemed like the worlds' happiest guy. I'm worried about how much he likes me. Because even though I do like him, things need to go veeeerrrrryyyyy sloooooooooow. And last night was kind of a rule-breaker for me. (Aside from the Martecus experience, but we chalk that up to an excerise of the Cold Water Theory.) And I must say, Caoimhin is being the worlds' hugest pissant right now. I think I'm going to take a little day trip down to the Marina and take a roll that I have. Ponder life. And what not. Jesus. Peace.
posted by
Anemone Ra at 2:35 PM
