~ So apparently my suspicions are true and that Urbane Decay set at the apartment show actually did brand me as undateable by all the women in Nanaimo and possibly elsewhere. A little while ago someone suggested to me that I have a “pathological” need to isolate myself from people. Though I originally scoffed at this theory, as I generally yearn for companionship, I’m beginning to suspect it’s perhaps uncomfortably accurate.
Apparently I also have a reputation for being “girl crazy” which I have no idea how I acquired. I seriously don’t think I’m any more girl crazy than the next chronically single guy. Really, I’ve only been interested in three girls in the past year. I don’t think that’s crazy at all. It just gets lonely living in an apartment with no one but a cat to talk to. Which actually is crazy. I don’t really talk to my cat. Okay, I do, but I don’t have conversations with my cat. That’d be crazy. Well, okay, not long conversations. Not ones where I actually believe she’s answering me. Which she does. But I have no idea what she’s saying. Because she’s a cat and I’m not crazy enough to believe I understand her incomprehensible cat-babbling. Cat owners will know what I’m talking about. Anyone who claims they don’t have tete-a-tetes with their cat when they’re alone is stone-cold lying to you. Right to your face.
On a brighter note, someone who I thought thinks I’m a douche, apparently does not. .
~ Speaking of The Urbane Decay, I totally bailed on the after-party somewhat without telling the host. Who was slammy-jammied last I saw him and maybe didn’t notice. I was going to head back and tell him we were bailing but after packing up the car there were too many talking shadows hanging around so I just fled the scene. Leaving Jamie or Nate to do the dirty work. Which is highly out of character for me. I like to think. But this is probably another misconception I have about myself.
~ It was Nick‘s Liberty Party at the Vancouver Ave house celebrating the day he was supposed to get married. We managed to drink an entire crate of wine. As in twelve bottles. By maybe eight people. My brain can’t actually process how this was achieved without disaster ensuing. It was, I felt, a rather positive experience.