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[29 Jun 2009|09:32pm] |
I'm starting up livejournal again-- this is official-- and yet I'm trying desperately to justify the revival of something I used in high school to keep track of crushes and feelings and, frankly, the beginnings of a depression I should've been dealing with then. Everything about blogging is so self-indulgent and self-celebratory. Something I spent a semester and twelve pages disparaging last year. (The cause [or effect?] of the look at me! look at me! generation). But I'm a part of it, I suppose. I sort of love it.
And to get past this..ugh..contemplating?...I'm going to get legit--
EVERYONE I CARE ABOUT (you know who you are):
GET BLOGGING.
Because I'm leaving and you're leaving and nenns is gone and I am incredibly awkward on the phone, and I never want to miss out on a joke. This is the dialogue I've set aside for today, Monday, June 29th 2009:
Michael Ped and I went to short beach today. We were lying near the dunes and a couple walked by with a husky pulling their canoe. We noticed the dog, commented on it.
Michael: That's what that dog should be doing.
Ari: What is that? A husky, right?
Michael: Yep
Ari: AHA! And I don't even like dogs. How long do you think it would take to do the iditarod?
Ped: The what?
Ari: The iditarod...you know...the iditarod?
Michael: I don't know.
Ari: It's the dog race....in Alaska...I think? You know....mush! mush!
Michael: Didn't they make a Disney movie about that?
Ari: In Ellen's book she made, like, one of my favorite jokes ever about it...she was talking about her goal of completing the iditarod and her mantra was "I can a rod, I will a rod, I win a rod, IDITAROD"
Ped: So what, it takes like..days?
Michael: Yeah, I think so, I mean you're going across the whole state right?
Ari: I don't know...I'm adding it to the list of things to do before I die.
Ped: Me too!
Ari: "Remember that time Ari and Ped won the iditarod?"
Ped: What a great segment for "what is chris ped doing right now"!
Michael: "What is Chris Ped iditaroding right now?"
LAUGH LAUGH LAUGH.
That's the one moment I'm setting aside for today. Enjoy it nennsy, you can do the voices and whatnot. I think I'll be happy if I set aside a little piece of dialogue a day until I leave.
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[23 Jun 2009|01:48am] |
What I've learned: once your first goodbye has come and gone, each new departure will painfully, effortlessly, remind you of those that came before it.
In 2004 I said goodbye to more people than I ever really had. Three really stuck:
1. Caitlin: in the frontyard: I told her I loved her, a sentiment always assumed but never spoken. Timely and necessary, due to the rough summer that led us to that point.
2. Nennsy: standing in the driveway, car door open: She didn't drive with me to Fordham; I don't remember why. (Fordham! The Bronx! Could I have ever grasped California, Oregon?) She hugged me and said, Promise you'll be healthy. I wasn't, of course, and made the promise knowing full well I would break it, but none of that matters now.
3. Jimmy: of course: Lord knows eighteen year old Ari wrote this goodbye to death, but I remember mostly the fact that I forgot to sign his cast, and that I burst into tears the second I realized it.
All of the pain that, despite its distance, has not lost its significance.
I remember saying goodbye to Aunt Donna in 1997, or, rather, watching Aunt Donna say goodbye to Mom, the two of them crying, crying, crying. I remember thinking how unnecessary it seemed-- why choose to leave if it makes you so sad?
And here we are!
Here I am.
Constantly forcing myself to leave, and now, my sister too. Why do we do this? Did watching Aunt Donna cry and seeing my family leave anyway teach me some sort of misplaced dedication? To what-- a principle? Am I proving something? And what sort of happiness takes precedence? Happiness in people? Lifestyle? Surroundings?
People can leave, but does that mean I should/shouldn't?
Jackie! I was thinking tonight that I am not even a little prepared for how much I'm going to miss Jackie.
I've said goodbye to Emily more times than I can count; ours is a different kind of goodbye though-- it holds the optimism of pattern, recognition-- the goodbyes have nearly lost all meaning because we know they are more like good old-fashioned time-outs.
Andrew, of course, the letter.
Nick. My goodness, Nick. I don't remember him crying. I can't honestly say whether or not he did. Does that mean anything though? This is not something I should discuss-- this is not something I should dwell on-- it's just that the moment of his leaving, the act of his departure, is something I so rarely remember, and yet is something I should constantly remind myself of; truthfully, most of Nick was leaving, most of Nick was departure. I cried that night and what I remember most is feeling slightly ashamed because of it.
Tonight Nena hugged me and said, I can't even try to say goodbye to you, this just isn't going to happen.
(It always shocks me to be shown love-- not because I wallow in self-pity or think I don't deserve it, but because I so often question it, misunderstand it, condition myself to survive without it)
I told her, I love you, I love you, so much, and it will be fine. And it was so evident that we are still Danea and Arianna. We have never grown apart, we can never grow apat, this always stays the same.
So why do we leave-- especially something that is so perfect already? The house. The couch. The pool. The game nights. Is this era finished? No more snarky comments over wine on Mondays?
It can't be-- it's been far too solidified-- we are in too deep, we are in for keeps.
This is all awfully scary, and again I've come up with something chaotic and disorganized and yet, surprisingly, I'm feeling a little better.
Goodnight.
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[08 Dec 2008|12:57am] |
i wrote this about him:
sometimes i want to tell you that i love you and how i love you
i should be able to tell you.
you are my boyfriend.
(of six+ months)
i dont know i dont know i dont know what to do
because lately, your actions show it. when you're not distracted by other people. and you are with me all of the time. but theres still this sadness, because i know something that i dont want to know. i am devious and suspicious and have read your words for her and they are nothing like you could ever feel for me, that you have ever shown to me. when we separate (and i know we will) maybe i will tell you. and hope that we can both find that for ourselves. because i love you so much it hurts. but when i love someone with that intensity, and he loves me with the same, that amount of hurt might convert into equal amount of happiness.
i wish it were you.
please make it easier and give me a real reason to leave you, please. something that would make sense.
oh god, i wish it could be you.
----
im finally ok with reading it because im finally okay with acknowledging that its over and that its good that its over (and that maybe it never should have been)
all of these stages that no one ever told me about.
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[02 Jul 2008|01:10pm] |
I've been considering switching to a different blogging medium. Isn't blogspot one of those respectable ones? (Is there a such thing as respectable blogging?) But the irony in livejournal is so perfect, and I love being able to switch gears and see what I was writing about in tenth grade-- much to my dismay (but hardly surprising) the names are interchangeable but the ideas remain the same.
Anyway.
I HATE my job. No really. Well, ok, fine, not REALLY-really. I mean I've done worse. CVS was worse. Target wasn't worse per se but I had just graduated and was dating Jimmy and working was cramping my super-emo-style. But there's something different about working at an office. Maybe its the vague notion that, theoretically, I could do this for the rest of my life. People do this for the rest of their lives. I could prove myself as a receptionist, make my way into billing, years later achieve office manager status. It's terrifying. And while there are some benefits, e.g. paid holidays, paid vacation, weekends off, kickass doctors, FREE BIRTH CONTROL!, there was something better about working in a restaurant, something easier to reconcile with myself. People who work at restaurants rarely do just that, you know? Few people are career waiters and even if they are, it usually comes with some valuable life skills, personality, "street smarts" or whatever you call it. It's that level of getting it that Jeff and I used to discuss at 7am, making eggs for ourselves before any real customers ordered. But do I want to go back to waitressing? Probably not. I'm too spoiled now. Sunday Funday and whatnot. And by the time I left JTs, I hated it too. Remember? I have very selective memory. And I guess I get restless. There's just something inherently soul-killing about my job. I can't put my finger on it (though it might have something to do with the discovery that there are people-- many people-- who haven't even heard of the Odyssey)
I think I just need a little more fulfillment in my life. Which I'm trying to do in my spare time, but then it only makes me resent my job even more. WHY WON'T SOMEONE PAY ME TO SIT OUTSIDE IN MY ANTI-GRAVITY CHAIR AND READ MRS DALLOWAY? Geez.
But, ten things to look forward to:
1. Two more months of Sunday Funday
2. Garage sale redux
3. Platinum blonde??! Is it happening??!!?!
4. Dark Knight midnight showing
5. Super Sexy Summer Party '08
6. American idol tour?
7. American idol AUDITIONS??? (I promised Dylan)
8. Guitar lessons with Mikey
9. Wine tasting
10. Montreal!
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[30 Jun 2008|01:32am] |
I still love him. I mean, duh. Of course I do. It still hurts. Every fucking day. I don't know how to make it stop. I need it to stop. I miss him every day.
I talk a lot about how I was unhappy and how it was so bad and "can you believe [fill in the blank]?" but mostly it was good. When we were alone, it was good. It was pretty close to sublime. And that is what I think about late at night, or when a fun day ends and I think about how I would end it in bed with him, reading or watching a movie or IMing eachother in the same room and how how how do I make that stop? Those moments existed, that person existed, and I loved him; or, I love him. And I am trapped. He is gone and no one else is him. I can't bring myself to care an ounce about another man. Lord knows I want to. I try to love every man I meet. I try to fuck every man I meet. Fuck, fuck, fuck, until it's gone. This thing inside me. This pathetic longing for a person who, in so many words, renounced his existence in my life. He told me he didn't exist. He told me I never met him. So stop it already. Let go. Think of it as a death.
And all of these people. Telling me all of these things. Knowing it should help me, but it doesn't because they are wrong, they weren't there to see what was there when we were alone. How we lived off of each other. And maybe thats not healthy. But now I don't know what to do. Months later and I still don't know what to do.
His absence was supposed to make me happy, and it did, to an extent-- a vacant happiness. I do things I missed doing. I read more. I go digging for music. I write. I thought the loss of him would coincide with the return of me, but this isn't a me who I even really recognize or like anymore. I enjoyed Me with Him. I enjoyed him. I loved him. It was good. I mean, it was bad too. A lot of bad. But mostly-- honestly-- it was good.
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| this is almost an out-of-body experience |
[17 Jun 2008|12:23am] |
Well, hello.
Let's jump past the part where I talk about how strange this is, how nostalgic, how late-night-on-Townline-Rd-listening-to-U2 this feels. Let's move on.
I feel that I am going to look back on 22 as a landmark birthday. I turned 22 this year and I felt it bringing some personal responsibility. Twenty-two is old. Twenty-two is graduating college (or having all of your friends doing it). Twenty-two is too old to be unhappy with your body/job/outlook on life. Twenty-two is nearing the age where one can legitimately feel regret and I am not about to let that happen. I've never believed in regret before, so why start now?
There are a lot of things I've missed. I miss writing. Oh, I miss writing. I really really missed music, and I've been slowly taking it back. I missed school-- thank goodness I'm back in school. I missed likeminded people. I missed moving and planning and taking action. I had settled into this complacency, waiting for something to move me and it never came until I turned 22 and thought "Let's begin."
This is going to sound strange but I've always been really happy about my relationship with myself. I know me very well. I ought to-- I've spent years staring within, examining and experimenting. Which makes this personal revolution quite exciting.
Does any of this make sense? I don't know; it's late. Welcome back, LiveJournal.
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[26 Jul 2006|02:56am] |
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music |
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rilo kiley- more adventurous |
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i swore it off, i know. i said goodbye and it lasted a while. but right now its 2 41 and i need to get this out i NEED to get this out and emily is asleep in my room with my journal and i have this laptop sitting right in front of me and isnt it just perfect?
so lets get one thing straight:
you dont get to do this.
you do NOT get to do this. we have certain rights in our respective roles. i have the right to decide whether or not we will be friends and you have the right to accept or deny this decision. you do not have the right to make me feel bad about myself. seriously, dont worry, you got me good the first time around. i'm all set in the feeling badly about myself department, thankyouverymuch. so when i extend the olive branch of friendship (why why why why WHY? i know its not friendship, it cant be friendship, there CANT be a friendship after all this!) i dont know, maybe you could explain to me why you'd rather not go along with it.
or not. i dont know how this works. i remain now, as i always have been, a super douchebag who cares and thinks more about things than i rightfully should. i sing to rilo kiley, i write in livejournal and i vow to stop eating because when im skinny (like her, like all the hers that have ever been) NOTHING CAN GO WRONG! because really, how much does anyone ever change?
but god, by this point i ought to be the most adventurous girl on the block.
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[01 Mar 2006|01:57pm] |
im giving this up. ive tried to convince myself that there is a reason other than self-promotion to write in a livejournal. for myself, i cant find one. lately it disgusts me. writing in it and thinking about other people reading it. trying to prove myself. (as what? i dont even know). so from now on its my own regular journal for me.
farewell live journal, its been a long ride.
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[19 Jan 2006|04:34am] |
ah i just want to go to bed and i can't. i used to be nocturnal. it doesnt fit me so well anymore.
everyone should go out and see match point. so fucking good.
i think its time for a bedtime story. this is a story about the ( Best Night Of My Life )
and that is the story of The Best Night Of My Life.
goodnight.
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[15 Jan 2006|12:33pm] |
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in three days i will be home. i will land in newark and drive to new york and walk through my door and collapse on my bed and, in just three days, i will be home. but last night i was sitting in a welsh bar in new zealand (one that proudly claims to be "the only real welsh bar in the southern hemisphere!") and i was learning the welsh national anthem with a german girl, an irish boy, and a welsh man. i love moments like that, moments of realization of how strange this is. but one thing i have realized through meeting all of these different, incredible, and interesting people is how confident i am in the fact that i already know the coolest of the cool. and that i miss them and cant wait to see them and as much as i suffer from the wanderlust, i think id rather not leave them for long periods of time. so as much respect as i have for the people i have been meeting who are in their eleventh month of travels and still have nine more to go, im quite happy with what i have in long island-- my tapestry of humor, my regulars at jts, my toast wednesdays, my Real Down To Earth Girls, my diners (GOD i miss diners), my nip/tuck parties, the up-and-coming "michael and me" (which, incidentally, has been going on for the past year according to what ive been telling and *slightly* exaggerating to people). dont get me wrong, i fully intend to continue doing a couple weeks here and a couple months there. i just think that after the six month mark i would start to lose it. and im kind of okay with that.
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[11 Jan 2006|05:15pm] |
im back in wellington and im going to be an asshole and brag about what ive been doing.
first of all my scalp is KILLING ME because its completely burned, as is the rest of my body, because apparently the ozone layer is really messed up above new zealand? and im going to get skin cancer and die.
but anyway. i was in christchurch the past couple of days, which is a complete ghost town. even though i had to walk around for 20 minutes before i could find somewhere to eat, it was very pretty and i did like it. THEN i went on the tranzalpine to the southern alps and stopped in arthur's pass to do some hiking with my new aussie friend, anita. which was absurdly beautiful. and the train ride was awesome because they have an open air car, so you can basically stand outside as you pass all of the mountains and the plains and the wild, running sheep (which are everywhere) and i kind of really love everyone from new zealand because anytime you ever pass someone on any means of transportation they wave at you. they see you on the ferry, they wave. they pass you on the train, they wave. i love it love it love it. also, i was on the train this morning sitting across from this tiny old new zealander man wearing a hat that said "perfect 10". if i had enough guts i would have asked him for a picture because it made me laugh everytime i saw it, and i think it would continue to make me laugh anytime i looked at the picture. but i didnt want to insult him.
omg ALSO i went to seatoun which this fantastic beach town on the outskirts of wellington and not ONLY did i see the house orlando bloom lived in (sigh) and not ONLY did i eat in viggo's favorite cafe and not ONLY did i see the house that peter jackson currently lives in and his oscar standing in the window, BUT. I SAW. AN URUKAI. im kind of the exact person no one wants in new zealand. but yeah, he was standing in the window of the weta workshop studios and i took a picture of him and hes huge and horrifying and im dying just thinking about it.
in other news, im sitting next to the dreamiest dreamboat in the whole wide world and we keep making fun of how slow the computers are and making each other laugh and hes from germany but he often visits his friends in the east village and i stole jenna's life for a second and told him i live in the east village (sorry jenna. if you ever want to steal any part of my life, you can) but it doesnt matter, i dont want to marry him, i just kind of really want to make out with him. a lot.
ill post further updates.
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[07 Jan 2006|07:27am] |
so im in new zealand.
its crazy, right? yesterday was basically filled with my walking around wellington and stopping every couple of minutes being like "wait. really?" the city is beautiful. a different kind of beautiful though. its not like its this old city that is breathtaking, its just so strange seeing a city on one side of you and the pacific ocean and mountains on the other. i miss EVERYONE SO MUCH and im already getting a bit homesick. but i feel like it will get better as it goes on. im a boner and just brought the wire to upload my pictures, and then on the plane i realized its useless without my laptop. so im either going to buy another memory card (since i already filled up this one yesterday. whoops) or just get a whole bunch of disposables. who knows.
anyway.
its 7 30 in the morning (but 1 30 pm to me) and im awake and anxious but nothing is open. so i think im going to go trek up mt victoria.
YES. im going to trek up mt victoria.
im such an asshole.
OMG MISS YOU ALL <3
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[31 Dec 2005|05:14pm] |
this is what i wrote regarding new years eve 2004:
i was all bummed about the new year being right now, about how i wish i could stall it and wait until i was ready to make some optimistic beginning. then i realized that every day is the first day of a new year and im not going to condemn 2005 just because on the day of its birth im still 75% the version of me from 2004.
which is why the whole concept is ridiculous to me, resolutions especially.
its hard to say whether or not i agree with this statement today. i think, maybe, 2004 and 2005 cant be looked at as individual years. they are a package deal. individually, they were swallowed up. together they kind of make sense. i cant remember any distinct events, just the passing of time. i feel like i havent changed because i feel the same way i did yesterday. and yesterday i felt the same as the day before. and that day i was the same person as the day before that. and so on. regardless, from the distance i am at now, i feel like i will classify 2004 as "rock bottom" and 2005 as "putting things back together" and i think 2006 will be "THE COMEBACK", whereupon i will re-enter the real world.
anyway.
happy new years!
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[31 Dec 2005|12:40am] |
i'm a weird girl. i show the way i feel about people by carefully placing them on my lord of the rings-styled buddy list. i talk faster than i think. i make overbearing first impressions, tonight involving mace. i think nothing is funnier than a typo, except maybe speaking the typo. sometimes i'll reenact something in my head and i'll find myself making all of the facial expressions that go along with the scenario, so i'll stop and quickly look around to see if anyone was watching. im going to new zealand by myself for no real reason, but im pretty sure, by some kind of subconscious logic, it has something to do with my not having a license. im weird. i know that. and i can appreciate it, now, after years of self loathing (aka "middle school") and character building ("high school"). i just wonder sometimes if ill be able to find someone else who will appreciate it. someone besides my equally quirky bffs. someone who might let me kiss them every now and then.
anyway.
whats going down for new years?
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[25 Dec 2005|01:43am] |
i just came back from midnight mass. i am ashamed to say that i did sleep. in fact, while the priest sidestepped coming up with another christmas homily by just playing a country song about god, i slept. i slept and dreamt about lost. im not sure about what exactly, but sayid was definitely there. then everyone stood up and it startled me. i opened my eyes and said "jesus!"
something here just isnt right.
i cant, as a logical person, make myself believe. i used to, blindly. i miss it. i just. i dont know.
but i love christmas, even its meaning has shifted for me. the priest asked what brought everyone there tonight and i thought to myself "UG" but then i decided it was my love for UG and i decided the correct answer was love. that love brought us here, that christmas means love, and even if right now i cant attach it to a love for jesus, its fine by me.
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[16 Dec 2005|10:28pm] |
my legs are cold.
maybe its because i shaved them today and theyre not used to being without that insulation layer.
sometimes im really gross.
i just came back from fancy eating at h2o with cara and neens. i wasnt going to go. i felt unseemingly large and the last thing i want to do when im feeling unseemingly large is go out to eat (and spend copious amounts of money on it, on top of everything).
i went anyway.
i got some really good sushi. turns out i like eel. (who knew?) i shared a nice pinot grigio with cara. wine always starts really good and ends up burning the back of my tongue. drinking wine can make me feel so young and so old at the same time. i sat across from cara and nena when we got to the table. i thought this could maybe be symbolic. i realized i was grasping at straws. sometimes things are just good.
like my beautiful friendship with andrew. he just called me to tell me that he watched, as an intro into nip/tuck, probably one of the most disturbing episodes. if you ask me, what nip/tuck has been missing all this time is some good old fashioned s&m. but thats neither here nor there. it made me laugh. nip/tuck is the soapiest of all soaps and i feel that if andrew can share my love for it, we can spend hours upon hours watching the seasons.
i think im going to celebrate christmas this year by finally watching the extended edition of the return of the king. its been sitting on my dvd shelf, waiting for me to pick it up.
i think im going to end up with a gamer guy. if ive learned anything from the jts boys and their magic the gathering, its that i kind of really love gamer guys. this was further proven when i went to buy mario party 7 at game stop (because im the best sister in the whole wide world) and i chatted it up with the employee. we're pretty much in love. i kind of love everyone. ive been keeping a notebook of love, documenting every time i collapse into it. on wednesday i fell in love six times. one with this enchanting little girl that i saw dancing in the mall. then with peter jackson (sigh) then with adrien brody and colin hanks (SIGH) and jamie bell and king kong. how many is that? five. OH and the girl in front of me in the line for taco bell. she was so gracious. i respect that. yesterday i only fell in love twice, but it was a workday and we were slow.
im leaving for new zealand in about two weeks. my itinerary is as follows:
jan 3- leave newark at 3 30 pm.
jan 5- arrive in wellington at 9 00 am
(i KNOW)
jan 5-8: wellington
jan 8-11: hamilton/rotorua/waitomo caves
jan 11-15: christchurch/mt cook
jan 15-17: back to wellington
jan 17- leave wellington at 5 30 pm
jan 17 - arrive in la at 10 30 am
(I KNOW)
and finally, i will arrive in newark at 9 pm.
i cant wait to travel into the future and then back into the past.
maybe ill meet some really interesting people. maybe (probably) ill meet a hobbit! maybe its a rule that i can only have sex outside of the US. i hope its not a rule that i can only have sex with swedes who are unforgivably ghetto and call videos "wideos", but as of now its looking like it is.
i really really really miss emily.
i dont want to go to work tomorrow
(i never do)
and you know what?
i do not have the patience, nor do i have the energy, to play these guessing games. i am good at some things; hard to get is not one of them.
i try not to dwell on this shortcoming too much.
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[01 Dec 2005|11:34pm] |
what a super fantastic past couple of days.
caitlins surprise dinner was a success. that, or shes a talented actress. i was sitting at the edge of the table wishing (in vain) that i were a good photographer, all the while taking enough mental snapshots to remember forever and ever how happy i am right now.
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[29 Nov 2005|08:26am] |
listening to otis redding sing about a white christmas makes me long for a little soul added to my christmas this year. i think my christmases have been lacking soul for quite some time.
man, i love otis redding. i wish he could sing to me every minute of every day.
this christmas season finds me craving not religion specifically, but god. or faith in general. i will always love christmas for the happiness and the excitement and the generosity and the nostalgia, but it would be nice to go back to loving it for what its really about. i wish i would feel something when i sing oh holy night at the top of my lungs, like i used to. it makes me feel horribly cynical. and no one wants to be cynical at christmastime.
right now im just stalling because i still havent cleaned my room.
STILL.
oh ok so heres whats what: about two weeks into february, this little house on the corner of mayfair will be the home of neens and neens and neens and cara. we got the final approval from the bank yesterday, and cara and caitlin will be moving in. my sister will be moving upstairs. and i really wont be doing anything but watching it happen and maybe lending a hand every now and then. but theoretically, i could close my door, do whatever it is i do in my room, open my door, and find myself in THE HOUSE OF MY DREAMS.
now for the poll. on the topic of dogs, we should live with:
1. chelsea
2. brandy
3. boots
4. none of the above, because its mean to separate them
there are so many factors really. the volume of hair that is shed, the color of hair that is shed, the size of dog, the amount of slobber, the protection value, the all around demeanor, the energy required for upkeep, the skulking.
when it all comes down to it, i think i love boots the most.
the bad news is im not going to london. i dont even really know how it happened. i do know i dont want to talk about it.
the good news is i am going to new zealand.
jesus, ari. clean your room.
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[20 Nov 2005|02:15pm] |
tonight i felt fat for the first time in a long time
fat like
unforgivably
incapacitatingly
unrelentingly
one step forward, two steps back
fat
i know i will feel better about it tomorrow. i know i just have to sleep it off. but then what about tomorrow night? i will have to go through it all over again. all it takes is one bad day and the idea of eating three meals tomorrow is the most frightening task.
i talked to caitlin about it. i love caitlin because she doesnt have to solve things to make me feel better, she just lets me know im not alone in feeling this.
heres something i wrote last night.
+++
it was their last night in this foreign place that had, in a week, become their home. she was well aware that tonight she would be the supporting female to her best friend's lead and she found a comfort in that knowledge. her hands wrapped around the base of a glass of disaronno on the rocks with a casualness that would lead one to believe she had been drinking this drink for years. she almost believed it herself.
emily, further along in the drinking game, fell once again into the seat across from her.
"ok. whats the deal?"
she hid her tired eyes behind her hands.
"well that guy with the messenger bag? he likes my hat. he pulled me aside and told me. 'i like your hat.' just like that. where the fuck is avy?"
"avy's making the drinks we keep drinking. now, what about messenger bag guy?"
she looked across the table for a moment and then was gone.
supporting actress smiled. she considered following but knew that her friend would return the moment avy (or Messenger Bag) was unsatisfactory. she closed her eyes. she did not want to think of tomorrow. she did not want to think of goodbyes to the bartending boys, the limetree hotel, victoria station. she did not want to think of saying goodbye to emily. her hands found the glass which found her lips and she tried to picture a map of the world and see herself on this side of the ocean.
"excuse me, im sorry, are you american?"
she opened her eyes. she had only briefly seen the owner of the voice before when he had made a passing remark to the two girls. he was what she imagined every british man to be, as opposed to the british boys she had met thus far. his head was nearly shaven. looking to be in his mid 30s, the look could either be a valiant defiance of early onset male pattern baldness, or perhaps a simple style preference. she suspected the former. he wore a blazer and jeans and a fairly worn-in set of vans. he was by himself in a bar that surrounded him with people much less his age, but it was her last night in london and there was no time to waste judging.
"yes, actually, i am"
"i thought so. whereabouts in america are you from?"
"new york. well, i am. my friend, the girl who was just here-- shes from arizona."
"interesting. and your name is?"
"arianna. yours?"
"steve"
she smiled.
"i wonder, arianna, if it would be possible for me to join you?"
at this moment, this stranger named steve managed to make her feel more like a woman and less like a girl than she had felt in quite some time.
"absolutely"
++++
i think i want to finish this little blurby thing because it was actually one of my best memories of the trip. i never wrote anything about london in my journal except for the stuff i wrote while i was there, so ive been adding little bits of this kind of crap here and there.
i think its time for bed.
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all_thepromises's journal