So, there I sold my Blazer for 500 bucks. I accidentally kept all the floor mats and the change holder, though. I was trying to be cool and clean the car out a little and forgot to put those things back in. The guy who bought it still said it was messy. He came at 8 in the morning; I had fallen asleep at 430-500 EST after having indulged my taste for alcohol a little too liberally. Needless to say, I wasn't in the mood to sell a car.
I think I embarassed myself the night before...though it really hasn't come back to me yet. I called my friend Jennifer (who I hadn't talked to in 2 years or so) at 230 EST on her home phone, not knowing her situation at all, and left a semi-drunken way-too-excited-for-3-in-the-morning message on her answering machine. She could be married with a little kid for all I know. Anyway, she hasn't called me back. I think I might try again at a more reasonable hour and at least apologize. What do you think?
I think I'm going to leave all the decisions in my life up to people who post comments on this site. I mean you guys probably can't screw my life up anymore than I could. If you say call her, I'll call. If you say don't call, I won't.If you say crash my car into her house...well, I'll need quite a few comments to convince me of that one, but I'll definitely take it under advisement.
Was back in Raleigh once again. Was the least exciting time yet, though I did actually go to a party and meet several new people. I was just so tired...and hanging out with Amy has gotten exhausting. Physically and mentally. Emotionally? A little of that, too. John graduated. My parents stood me up for dinner. Hung out in a field drinking beer and listening to some shitty skinhead punk band. I need a new town to escape to. The sad thing is that is so much better than greensboro would've been.
/\/\
3 comments:
Call her, and be like all civilized and polite and shit, and then right before you hang up say "I LOVE YOU!" and then run away. I know it's just a phone call, but you still have to run away.
Just incase.
and then we cut to the montage sequence, with either an Elliot Smith or Michael Penn song playing pretty loud, showing you in the bar shaking your head and then, in slow motion, ordering another drink, then to her, she's sitting by a window with a concerned look on her face, and it's raining, you at work, her at work, you in a sports coat or that corduroy coat, smoking in the street, looking at something, then as you walk away, we realize it's her house, then to her, she's busy combing her hair, looking into a mirror at how distraught she is, then she looks towards the window, but you're gone.
that's how it has to go.
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