Reconciliation

10:59, 21 April 2003

I need to give mad props to Ellie and Limes. (Mad props? Who the fuck am I?) Anyway, I was seriously laying on my floor like a pounded flat chicken filet, sobbing at the pathetic loneliness of my entire existence, when my cellphone, set to vibrate, started hopping all over my countertop like a Mexican jumping bean. Ellie. She is an old friend from Connecticut. We are not close enough that I could tell her I was sobbing on the floor when she called. But talking to her snapped me out of the depressive funk.

After we hung up, I was blowing my nose and considering rejoining the population of sane people... my cellphone shook its booty again. Limes! I met Limes on Diaryland a few months ago; we've read each other's diaries voraciously since, and recently met up in person. And, surprise! we get along great. Anyway, we went to Q's in Santa Monica, which also turns out to be the Sunday night hangout of Cuba Gooding Jr. and that guy who plays Lex Luthor on Smallville.

We got some drinks and she saved my evening. Because you know that if I were left to my own checkbook-balancing, wine-abstaining devices tonight I would: a) stress about P-fuck not calling me; b) cry more; c) update waaaaaay too much in this diary (which I already do... but honestly, you don't know how many times I have to stop myself from updating because I'm worried people will think I don't ever leave the house. The truth is, I leave the house, but I have no one to talk to about all the shit spinning, swimming, suffocating in my head constantly. So y'all get it. Raw, like WWF.)

While I was notwaiting for Piyush to call me, I was wildly cleansing my apartment of reminders of him. I moved the book he was flipping through on my couch. I violently wiped all the pepper that had ventured beyond his omelette the other day off my tablecloth... I am so so weird. So then, after my getting-ready-to-meet-Limes glasses of wine, you know I called his ass. Someone, please install a breathalyser on my cell phone so it won't dial out when I'm drinking. He was studying. He didn't even care about the email, because I'd warned him about it. I said I'd talk to him in a couple hours.

I called him on the way home, too. I am so impressed that I wasn't a total idiot on the phone, especially since he was sober. And studying. So anyway, he asked me to give him a call tomorrow to wake him up. I seriously do this for him every day; mine is the first voice he hears every morning. I still consider that cute, minus the doughboy this time. So then I asked him if we could study together this week so his motivation would rub off on me. He agreed, with the condition that we go out on Wednesday night after we study. Yeeeeah. Twist my arm.

So it seems we're back to normal. I guess I just needed to check myself, you know? I was being totally unrealistic, which I knew in the back of my head. We (were? are?) dating, not boyfriend/girlfriend. I should have just had fun and not flipped out. I also think I was confusing the fact that we've become good friends with the closeness one has as a romantic relationship develops. But wait, romantic relationships develop physically and emotionally. And we were getting closer emotionally (friend-wise) and we were making out all the time... so I suppose it makes sense that I was confused. How was I supposed to know whether it was a relationship or not, then? Maybe just because a relationship was unrealistic given the circumstances.

So yes, I got home and ate ice cream: the new limited edition Ben & Jerry's Oatmeal Cookie ice cream. Honestly, do not buy that ice cream! You will eat the entire carton, I swear to God.